


Tales of Heroes and Villains

by vannahfanfics



Category: My Hero Academia Illegals: Vigilantes, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Crack Fluff, Cutesy, F/M, Fluff, Gen, General fluff, Oneshot collection, Romance, Tragedy, Vigilante!Izuku, friendship fluff, oneshots, romance fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 153,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22455541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannahfanfics/pseuds/vannahfanfics
Summary: A collection of oneshots from the fandom of My Hero Academia.DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters presented in these stories. These rights belong exclusively to Kouhei Horikoshi.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta & Kayama Nemuri & Shirakumo Oboro & Yamada Hizashi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Eri, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Fukukado Emi | Ms. Joke, Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina/Bakugou Katsuki, Ashido Mina/Sero Hanta, Asui Tsuyu & Tokoyami Fumikage, Awase Yousetsu/Yaoyorozu Momo, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki/Nejire Hadou, Bakugou Katsuki/Uraraka Ochako, Dabi & Toga Himiko, Eri & Midoriya Izuku, Hadou Nejire/Toogata Mirio, Hagakure Tooru/Ojiro Mashirao, Haimawari Kouichi & Haneyama Kazuho | Pop Step, Jirou Kyouka/Kaminari Denki, Midoriya Izuku/Melissa Shield, Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako, Sero Hanta/Uraraka Ochako, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko & Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko, Shiozaki Ibara/Tokoyami Fumikage, Takami Keigo | Hawks & Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko, Takami Keigo | Hawks/Todoroki Fuyumi, Todoroki Shouto/Yaoyorozu Momo, Tokoyami Fumikage & Uraraka Ochako
Comments: 148
Kudos: 238
Collections: 2020-2021 BNHA Spring Big Bang





	1. Foreword

Hello everyone! Welcome to my oneshot collection for My Hero Academia, _Tales of Heroes and Villains!_ It includes a variety of stories, from passionate romances to tales of friendship, and I hope everyone enjoys reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. If you have migrated here from _Cuddle Corner,_ thank you for sticking with me; if you are new, welcome and enjoy what I have here! In either case, happy reading!

I do take prompts/pairing and story requests (in fact, I love them, so please feel free to request!). However, there are a couple of guidelines to keep in mind:

  * If a prompt is submitted, I **do not** guarantee that I will agree to write it. If I feel uncomfortable at the prompt or otherwise feel like I do not possess enough information to adequately complete the prompt, it is my right to politely refuse to take the prompt. If the prompt is from a series that I have not read/seen, it is likely that I will place the prompt on hold until I have done so. If the prompt is from an anime filler arc, I may refuse or require a short explanation of the filler arc to provide me with enough detail to complete the prompt. Please respect my choice as an author to refuse prompts. 
  * Please do not comment with ship hate. I do not tolerate ship discrimination here (within reason, citing the rules below); it is a sure-fire way to earn yourself a block. I am a multi-shipper and don't care about petty ship wars, so it's really quite rude to come on here bleating that I am "delusional" for writing non-canon ships for fun. _Don't do it._ I write your ship too, I promise. Let others enjoy their ships. 
  * Most of the stories I write are male/female, mostly because this is what I am comfortable writing. However, if you wish to suggest a female/female or male/male prompt, please feel free to do so. I don't discriminate against such pairings and will most likely write them if requested, it is just unlikely that I will do so spontaneously. Again, please respect my decision as the author to refuse to write a pairing if I cannot draw appropriate inspiration.
  * Finally, this is _not_ a place for smut. I respect people who read and/or write it, but I am not one of those people, so please do not request anything that is NSFW. Incest and pedophilia are also prohibited. Other than NSFW, there are two other things to keep I mind. _I do not romanticize cheating_. So if I feel your request involves something of this nature, I will politely refuse. I have been hassled about this before, so please don’t press me on it. Secondly, _I am sensitive about large age gaps between characters_. These will be taken on a case-by-case basis and depends on the age of the characters as well as their relationship. I am particularly iffy concerning student-teacher relationships, and those will most likely be refused. Of course, everyone is entitled to their preferences and I will never harass you or judge you if you request something of this nature. All I ask is that if I refuse, you take is gracefully, and don’t get upset if I happen to write another pairing with an age gap because the circumstances are most likely radically different. I promise you that I have my reasons. 



My requests are currently: **CLOSED**


	2. Index

**Chapter 1:** Two-Toned _(Hawks/Fuyumi)_

 **Chapter 2:** Limited Edition _(Sero/Mina)_

 **Chapter 3:** Good Morning, Sunshine _(Sero & Mina & Kaminari & Bakugo & Kirishima)_

 **Chapter 4:** Off the Beaten Path _(Yaoyaorozu/Awase)_

 **Chapter 5:** The Wonder of Small Things _(Yaoyaorozu/Awase)_

 **Chapter 6:** The Healing Properties of Oolong Tea _(Bakugo/Uraraka)_

 **Chapter 7:** Waste the Night Away _(Sero/Uraraka)_

 **Chapter 8:** Mama Mina _(Kaminari & Mina)_

 **Chapter 9:** Publicity Stunts _(Mirko)_

 **Chapter 10:** In My Arms _(Yaoyaorozu/Todoroki)_

 **Chapter 11:** Hushabye Mountain _(Aizawa & Eri)_

 **Chapter 12:** Smooth _(Kaminari/Jiro)_

 **Chapter 13:** Quiet Strength _(Bakugo/Ochako)_

 **Chapter 14:** Sentimentality _(Hagakure/Ojiro)_

 **Chapter 15:** Tiny Terror _(Shinso)_

 **Chapter 16:** Midnight Munchies _(Izuku/Uraraka)_

 **Chapter 17:** Little Drummer Boy _(Nejire/Bakugo)_

 **Chapter 18:** Rivalry _(Bakugo & Izuku)_

 **Chapter 19:** Time of Need _(Tsuyu & Tokoyami)_

 **Chapter 20:** Happy Birthday, Izuku! _(Izuku)_

 **Chapter 21:** Weddings and Wisteria Trees _(Ibara/Tokoyami)_

 **Chapter 22:** Pikachu, I Choose You! _(Jiro/Kaminari)_

 **Chapter 23:** Just Like the Movies _(Yaoyaorozu/Awase)_

 **Chapter 24:** Of Comfort and Cup Noodles _(Ochako & Tokoyami)_

 **Chapter 25:** Face Your Fears _(Yaoyaorozu/Todoroki)_

 **Chapter 26:** Hanta Sero and the Goddess of Fun _(Sero)_

 **Chapter 27:** Happy Birthday, Mina! _(Mina)_

 **Chapter 28:** Spoiled _(Mirio/Nejire)_

 **Chapter 29:** Alone _(Mina/Sero)_

 **Chapter 30:** Can't Go Back _(Izuku & Bakugo) _

**Chapter 31:** One Good Turn Deserves Another _(Izuku & Eri)_

 **Chapter 32:** Lucky _(Toga & Dabi)_

 **Chapter 33:** The Crawler's Day Off _(Koichi & Kazuho)_

 **Chapter 34:** The Lovers' Plum _(Ochako/Bakugo)_

 **Chapter 35:** Where am I? _(Ragdoll)_

 **Chapter 36:** The Measure of a Good Hero _(Aizawa & Izuku)_

 **Chapter 37:** Light Up My World _(Fuyumi/Hawks)_

 **Chapter 38:** Odontophobia _(Hawks & Mirko)_

 **Chapter 39:** Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice _(Aizawa/Mrs. Joke)_

 **Chapter 40:** I've Got These Scars, But I Think They're Pretty _(Dabi)_

 **Chapter 41:** A Black-Tie Affair _(Izuku/Melissa)_

 **Chapter 42:** A Bright New Year _(Class 1-A & Eri)_

 **Chapter 43:** Live Like You Were Dying _(Oboro & Nemuri & Hizashi & Shota)_

 **Chapter 44:** On The Airwaves _(Rumi & Tenko)_

 **Chapter 45:** Halcyon Days _(Shoto & Natsuo)_

 **Chapter 46:** Heroes Rising _(Izuku & Bakugo)_

 **Chapter 47:** If Love Was A Color _(Bakugo/Ochako)_

 **Chapter 48:** It's a Date _(Mina/Bakugo)_

 **Chapter 49:** Song of the Sea _(Eri, Shota, & Hizashi)_

 **Chapter 50:** What You Deserve _(Hawks/Fuyumi)_

 **Chapter 51:** Making Up For Lost Time _(Yaoyorozu/Awase)_


	3. Two-Toned

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Keigo Takami (Hawks), Fuyumi Todoroki

Requested By: ungewissen (Tumblr)

“Oh, dear,” Fuyumi sighed. “Is it really that late already?” She was frowning deeply as she gazed nervously out of the spacious window beside her desk in her currently empty classroom. Above the silhouetted skyline, the night sky was enveloping the world in its gentle, dark embrace. The moon was a slim crescent, diminishing the amount of light it was able to cast upon the world, and the stars were blotted out by a combination of both wispy gray clouds and the light pollution of the populated city- meaning that the only things that would illuminate Fuyumi’s way home were the puddles of light splashing down on the sidewalk from the flickering lampposts. She hadn’t meant to stay in the school building so late grading papers, but once she got on a roll, it was very difficult to pry her attention away from her task. “Oh, dear,” she tutted once more to herself, but there was nothing for it; she had to get home at some point, after all, and it wouldn’t do to stay out any later than this. She quickly gathered her things into her spacious satchel before scurrying out of the door, being sure to lock her classroom behind her.

Fuyumi reflexively clutched her bag close to her hip as she scurried quickly and purposefully down the sidewalk. It wasn’t like she had anything valuable to the average person. The act of grounding herself to the bag seemed to alleviate her anxieties somewhat, but only just. Even with heroes patrolling the city day and night, the streets at night were still a dangerous place for a young woman such as herself. Besides, despite everything, many crimes went unpunished and even unwitnessed by heroes, because they simply couldn’t be everywhere at once, and if criminals had proved anything, they were adaptable and cunning. _If I could just make it to the train station, I’ll be just fine,_ she told herself with a small gulp. Statistically speaking, crime rates were still relatively low, so the chances of anyone hassling Fuyumi were favorable.

As it turned out, statistics were _not_ in her favor that evening.

A shiver crawled up her spine as a sharp wolf-whistle pierced the cool night air. The fine hairs on the back of her neck began to raise as thudding, heavy footsteps overshadowed her own light, feverish ones. She knew that someone was walking behind her, perhaps even _multiple_ someones. _Stay calm,_ she told herself as she dug her trembling fingers further into the brown fabric of her satchel. If she stopped and acknowledged them, then she was pretty much allowing herself to become a victim. She cast a fervid glance into the glass window of the next building she passed; her face paled frightfully as she caught glimpses of two male figures tromping behind her own reflection. They were very obviously staggering drunk. _Stay calm,_ she reminded herself. Even her inner voice was squeaking in fright.

“Hey, baby. It’s a little late to be out by yourself,” slurred one of the strangers. Invisible hackles raised over her shoulders at the proximity of his sluggish voice. Involuntarily, her pace quickened until she was jogging feverishly down the street. The train station was close, right? Her fear-fogged mind was mixing up the directions that had become second nature. Suddenly, the buildings didn’t look familiar; had she somehow made a wrong turn? Surely not, she thought she recognized that little cake shop on the corner, but then again, maybe it just looked a lot like the one she bought a muffin and coffee from every morning. Was it even a cake shop at all?

Her breath came in ragged gasps as fear and exertion began to overtake her system. Dammit, she should have invested in that pepper spray like Natsuo had told her to! She could hear the men laughing raucously behind her and their slamming footsteps.

“Why are you running, doll?”

“Yeah, we just want to chat! The night is young! Let’s go drinkin’!”” the other yowled not unlike a feral beast on the chase. Scared tears began to sting Fuyumi’s eyes as she desperately repeated “train station, train station” under her breath like a prayer. The soles of her flats scraped loudly against the sidewalk as she whirled around a corner, hoping the sudden and athletic movement would be too much for the drunkards to replicate. It was; they cursed angrily as they slammed halfway against the brick corner and tumbled over some silver trash bins. Had Fuyumi executed her plan perfectly, she would have created enough distance between them to escape. However, it was clear that luck had abandoned her. She whimpered pitifully as she stared wide-eyed and tearfully at the eight-foot-tall dirty brick wall that was obstructing her path.

“Aw, doll, you just wanted to find somewhere private? How nice of ya,” one of the drunks crooned before giving a disgusting, loud belch. _Stay calm, stay calm, you just have to catch them by surprise and push by,_ Fuyumi told herself frantically as she whirled on her heel and faced her stalkers. She gulped loudly as she held her satchel up to her chest, almost like a shield. Their hulking forms eclipsed the little amount of light pouring in from the lit street; their shadows stretched yards, ending right before Fuyumi’s quivering form. “Don’t be scared, doll,” echoed the sing-song voice laced with ill intent. “We just want to have a nice talk over a couple o’ drinks.”

“You look like such a pretty, nice lady. You’ll indulge us, right?” the other cooed in a soothing façade.

“I am not interested,” she stated clearly. Her voice was much stronger and firmer than her frantic soul; even in this state, she could somehow summon her teacher’s scolding voice. “Please excuse me.” It was a fool’s thought that politeness would get her anywhere with these thugs. All she earned in response were a pair of bitter resounding laughs. Fuyumi reflexively backed up against the wall as they continued to lumber towards her, swaying like nightmarish beasts.

“Why the hurry?”

“Yeah, all you uptight girls just need to let loose and have a little fuuuuuuun,” he stretched out the word into a slurred drawl that made every inch of Fuyumi’s skin crawl. As one of them neared close enough for arm’s reach, she snatched up the closest discarded item- a splintered slab of plywood- and lashed out at him.

“Get away from me!” she screeched. Her attack surprised him and his reflexes weren’t exactly stellar given his immense inebriation, so the hunk of wood actually connected with his skull. Unfortunately, the wood was half-rotted and thin to begin with, so rather than knocking him out, it snapped in half on contact and only served to infuriate him. Fuyumi yelped as he roughly grabbed the remaining piece of wood and yanked it right out of her hands to toss it down the alleyway. The clouds parted just enough to allow the sliver of the moon to shine down on the harrowing scene unfolding in the alleyway; the thin trail of blood leaking from the gash in his forehead glowed like a fiery ruby, matching the flame of anger burning deep in the dark pits of his eyes.

“Lady,” he snarled, “That _hurt_.” Fuyumi inhaled sharply and pressed back so hard against the wall that the indentations of the brickwork were sure to be imprinted into her skin. Her knees buckled against one another and refused to unlock, leaving her just a quivering, vulnerable mess. Was this really it? Was she really just going to stand there and be a victim? She always prided herself in being strong and capable, willful and robust, but it was like every ounce of her courage had been siphoned away with that one dreadful, murderous look. She begged her body to do something, anything, but it refused to comply. She could almost see the cloud of mist pouring from her mouth as her entire body froze into a block of ice. She turned her attention to desperate, silent prayers, calling out on instinct to her family.

Natsuo. Shoto. In her addled state, she would even take her shitbag of a father.

“Someone, please save me,” she breathed as four groping hands reached for her, unseen in the dark of the moonlit night.

“Now, that is _no_ way to treat a young lady.”

“Oh!” Fuyumi exclaimed as her red-and-white hair and the loose fabric of her dress ruffled wildly with the onslaught of a sudden, swirling wind. The air rang with the fluttering of countless feathers as the wind descended before her, and the hulking frames of the two drunks was replaced by a strong back adorned with two large, red wings. Lazily, a hand drifted up to weave through tousled blonde locks.

“Nope, nope,” clucked the hero before her in scolding, “ladies should be treated with respect and dignity- not herded into a dirty alleyway like livestock for the slaughter.” Though his tone started off lighthearted and almost unbothered at first, by the end of the sentence it had developed such a hard and savage edge that even Fuyumi winced, though it was in no way directed at her.

“Oh, shit, it’s Hawks! What the hell is he doing all the way over here?” one of them cried fearfully.

“Who gives a fuck? _Run_!” The other barked. Fuyumi could not see them behind the sprawling mass of those ruby-red wings, but she imagined they were clumsily turning on their heels to flee like the cowards they were.

“Nope, nope. Class ain’t dismissed,” Hawks sighed. Based on the flex of his toned shoulder muscles, she guessed his arms snapped out to grasp them by the backs of their necks. She was so impressed with his speed and agility that she completely missed the very obvious reference to her profession that implied familiarity on his part. A very loud thunking combined with piercing yelps indicated he had banged their heads together to daze them. “Really? You dopes make all that fuss, and that’s all it takes to knock you out? I’m disappointed,” Hawks pouted with a tiny flutter of his wings. Fuyumi watched owlishly as he deposited them a few feet away; she grimaced at the very obvious goose eggs growing on each of their foreheads. They would be feeling that in the morning, for sure. “Now, to get you punks to the slammer before you wake up and have any more bright ideas,” the winged hero muttered under his breath as he quickly typed a text into his smartphone. He gave no notice to Fuyumi. Blinking, she timidly peeled herself off the wall to take a few steps toward him.

“Um… Mr. Hawks… sir?”

“Oh, right, are you hurt, miss?” he laughed, shoving his phone deep into his pocket and rubbing the back of his neck with a bright smile. “Sorry, sorry, I was alerting the authorities; I didn’t mean to ignore you.” _For a pro hero, he sure is… flighty…_ The adjective was almost too appropriate. He smiled wider when she shook her head. “Good, good. Endeavor would sure drive a stick up my ass if you got hurt on my watch- uh, pardon the language,” he corrected quickly as a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

“Oh! No, it’s not that, um. I just wasn’t aware that you were familiar with my father.” Fuyumi had been under the impression that his assistance in her father’s televised fight was mere circumstance.

“Nope, nope! We’re buddies!” Hawks grinned widely. Fuyumi had to giggle; most definitely, it was a one-sided friendship, knowing her father’s grumpiness. Though Fuyumi had been through such a harrowing experience, his easy-going nature and smile was doing wonders to drive her down from that adrenaline high. She hugged the satchel of papers to her chest as she smiled shyly.

“Oh, well… I appreciate your help.”

“No problem~” he chirped with a dismissive wave. “You’re a little late in your schedule, though, yeah?” Fuyumi’s eyes widened as she stared at him blankly. How could he know that? It was his turn to blush. “Ah, no,” he stammered quickly while holding out his hands in an appeasing gesture. “It’s not like I stalk you or anything; I just, uh, always fly over here because there’s this place that has suuuuuper awesome bubble tea, yeah, and I always see you walking home at the same time, you know? I mean, you’re just, uh, really noticeable. In a good way! You don’t look weird or anything! Um. Maybe I should stop talking?” His wings drooped low as he looked uncomfortably at her. Fuyumi ought to be a little creeped out, she supposed, but he was just so cute and flustered that she just found it all endearing. His eyebrows sloped downward worriedly as she began to laugh lightly.

“It’s all right. I feel grateful that the number-two hero takes notice of a quaint little teacher such as myself.” The bubble tea shop was right next to the school she taught at, so it wasn’t much wonder he knew she taught, either. Honestly, Fuyumi was quite flattered. A famous hero, taking notice of her? It was dreamlike. A bashful smile graced his pretty face as he fluttered his wings hopefully. Fuyumi suddenly gulped as she beheld the marvelous appendages. She was no stranger to famous heroes, and after watching the televised fight, she had taken notice of Hawks and begun following his exploits. After all, she wasn’t blind; he was handsome and, dare she say, dreamy. As such, she had harbored a wee little fantasy. “M-may… May I touch your wings?” she whispered. His eyes widened and he compulsively looked at one of them.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he shrugged and extended one out for her. She sucked in a sharp breath as she admired the way the scarce moonlight played over the surface of the feathers, tainting the red hue with a silver-red color. Hesitantly, as if she were about to commit some blasphemous act even though he had expressly given her permission, she stretched out a hand. The very tips of her fingers just barely shook as they journeyed across the small space before connecting with the blades of his wings. She could not help but openly sigh as her fingers came into contact with the impeccably soft feathers. Her expression melted as she softly stroked the downy mass. Somehow, it was relaxing. Her fingertips skipped up to run across the hard bone of the frame of his wings, feeling the occasional tiny notch of a scar. She wondered momentarily how many battles he had been in, but it flew from her mind as he jumped slightly. “Sorry, it tickles a little,” he smiled nonchalantly at her as she looked at him. Her eyebrows crept up her forehead slightly, as the dusting of pink across his cheeks did not go unnoticed by her. She looked back down at the wings. Though she ached to just dive her hands into the soft feathers and play with them, that was stepping a little over the line, she reasoned.

“Erm… Thank you,” she said and retracted her hand before she grew too bold. He rolled his shoulders as he pulled the wing back in, before lifting his visor to smile at her with glittering eyes. Sirens were beginning to wail in the distance, growing closer by the second. Fuyumi felt a little saddened by their implications. “I… suppose it is time for you to leave, isn’t it?”

“Now, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t escort a young lady home?” Bird-like as he was, his voice still rumbled like a cat’s purr. It vibrated in Fuyumi’s chest, stirring her heart up into a frenzy. She straightened up reflexively as he took a few steps toward her, now standing less than a third of a foot in front of her; if he puffed out his chest enough, theirs would meet. “That is, if the young lady would grace me with her presence a little longer.”

“Oh, dear,” she breathed out. She couldn’t help it. He looked impossibly sexy; the moonlight was framing him just right, catching all the highlights in his hair and accenting all the ridges of his face and making his wings shine like that of a true angel’s. She found herself nodding before she could even command her brain to think about his question.

“May I?” he asked chivalrously and held out his arms with a slight stoop of his body, obviously intending to scoop her up into his arms. Again, her head bobbled in an entranced nod. As his thick arms slipped around her, one bumping into the backs of her knees and the other securing her around her shoulders as she stumbled into him, she automatically grabbed onto his sturdy shoulders. Immediately, her fingers itched with the inane need to trace the lines of his muscles so obviously encased by his hero uniform. Her face immediately flared pink at her indecent thoughts. This was a pro hero! Holding her close… His breath mixing with hers in close proximity… Really, she could kiss him without much effort… She wondered if it would be a welcome reward for her rescue? _Oh, dear, Fuyumi! Hush!_ She begged herself. Almost as if he was reading her mind, he smirked knowingly down at her. “You'd better hold on,” he remarked just as the police cars pulled up and the officers exited. “Thank you, gentlemen, but I gotta fly! I’ll come and give report at the station later <3” he hollered over his shoulder with a mischievous cackle before giving his wings one powerful flap. Fuyumi was not prepared for the speed at which they took off, and she squeaked as she lurched and her cheek pressed right into the plush muscle of his pectoral. _Oh, dear, that’s nice…_ she thought absently, not even really aware of the way her two-toned hair was flapping in her face.

“You’re missing the view,” Hawks laughed at her. She wrenched herself back into the present and hastily swept her hair from her face to look around.

What a view it was.

“Oh, dear…” Though only a few seconds had passed, they were now sailing high above the city line. The lights of cars and buildings twinkled in little orbs below, mirroring the expanse of the black sky above her head. Everything seemed so small, so inconsequential, that it took Fuyumi’s breath away. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” She looked at him and blushed when she found him staring directly at her. Momentarily, she wondered if she had been watching too many cheesy chick flicks and was dreaming. She pinched herself, sure that she would awaken in her bed with no memory of how she got there, but though the sharp pinch made her nerves complain loudly, she didn’t jolt up in her bed. _This is… real…_ she thought as she stared deeply into his golden-brown eyes. “You know, we’re acquainted so well, and yet I don’t even know your name,” he chuckled bashfully all of a sudden.

“Fuyumi,” she answered with no hesitation. “Fuyumi Todoroki.” The smile he gave her was one laced with obvious affection.

“Huh. Imagine that. A beautiful name to match a beautiful face.” It was such an obvious flirt that Fuyumi became overwhelmingly shy and buried her face into his shoulder, feeling it jump as his laugh rang out in the night air.

“Do you flirt so shamelessly with every young woman you rescue?”

“Nope, nope, just pretty teachers.” _Oh, he’s a rascal,_ she thought with a twist of her stomach, but she couldn’t deny that she was very excited by it all. After all, she would be a fool of a woman not to be! Hawks seemed like he was genuine enough, too.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Do I get to know your real name?” she asked, lifting her head to peer up at him. He gazed thoughtfully at her for a moment before giving her a lop-sided smirk.

“Depends. Do I get to have the young lady’s phone number?”

Instead of an answer, she gave him another embarrassed squeal and buried her face back into his broad shoulder. He had been so flustered earlier, but now he was spitting game like it was second nature to him! He was laughing again, and the way her head was jostling up and down with every loud chuckle didn’t help the nervous twisting of her belly. “Keigo,” he said suddenly, making her look up at him in mild shock. “Call me Keigo.”

“Keigo,” she repeated softly. “It has a nice ring to it.”

He snorted with a smile and turned his head as his wings shifted to bank sharply, catching the light of the moonlight in such a way that they glowed mostly white, but two-toned with occasional dark streaks of red with the way the shadows fell. Fuyumi smiled and reached up to play with the ends of her wind-swept two-toned hair, thinking that in the moonlight, they matched.

What were the implications of _that_ , she wondered?


	4. Limited Edition

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido

“Denki.” Hanta called as he rounded the stair landing to the boys’ side of the third floor. He grimaced in the entryway of the hall, staring pointedly at the door to the room that belonged to one blonde-haired electric generator. When he got no answer, Hanta began walking down the hallway calling his name in increasing volume, “ _Denki_. _Deeeeennnkiiiii **iiii**_!” By the time he reached the door, he was practically screaming. “ ** _DENKI KAMINARI_**!” he shouted in such an unholy screech that Tenya opened his door to glare disapprovingly at him. Finally, Denki threw the door open to give him a wheedling whine, his gaming headset slung around his neck and muted.

“Dude, _what_?”

“Where’s my shirt?” Hanta asked with an innocent smile. Tenya rolled his eyes and shut the door with just the amount of volume to serve as a warning for Hanta to keep quiet. He continued to smile stupidly at Denki, only thinly veiling the mounting threat of violence building up in him as his friend began to perspire and laugh nervously.

“What shirt?” As if feigning innocence would work on Hanta. Denki gulped loudly as the taller boy leaned into the doorway, towering over him with glittering black eyes and a menacing grin.

“You know, the shirt I let you borrow two weeks ago? My limited-edition _ONE OK ROCK_ concert tee that is my sole most valued possession?” Hanta pressed, continuing to edge into the doorway until Denki was bending at a forty-five-degree angle. Denki laughed in an anxious high pitch, his eyes shifting around and refusing to settle on Hanta’s gradually reddening face.

“Oh! That one! Hehe! Well… Thing is… I kinda… don’t know where it is,” Denki admitted in a tiny voice. A few terrifying seconds passed as Hanta processed the confession. Denki finally looked up into his eyes, which were probably soulless as Hanta contemplated just how he would like to murder the oblivious boy. “Bro? You good?”

“Good? _Good_? Yeah, I’m good,” Hanta shrugged as she suddenly backed off, leaving Denki reeling in confusion. His instincts must’ve tipped him off, because he screamed and ducked under Hanta’s arms as he suddenly lunged at him with a feral yowl. “ _Yeah, I’m good, because I’m about to **kill** you!_” Sobbing apologies, Denki managed to wriggle past him and take off down the hallway towards the stairs. Hanta whirled on his heel, shooting his tape down the hall and only just barely missing Denki’s elbow as he practically dove down the stairs. “Get _back_ here! Atone for your sins!” Hanta yowled as he chased him, thundering down the stairs on all fours. He could hear Denki’s manic blubbering floating up from within the stairwell. Sero had to admit the little shit was fast, because he couldn’t catch up to him.

“Baku-bro! _Baku-bro_ , save me!” Denki screeched as he vaulted himself a good five feet across the room and clambered over the back of the couch into a very startled Katsuki’s lap.

“What the- get off me!” Katsuki huffed and shoved poor Denki to the floor. Denki looked at Hanta over the top of the couch fearfully as he stalked him, eyes blown wide with desire for homicide.

“He’s gonna kill me!”

“You probably deserve it.”

“Whoa, whoa, guys!” Izuku laughed good-naturedly and stood up, waving his hands placatingly at Hanta. “What’s the problem?”

“He lost my _fucking_ tee-shirt!” Hanta fumed and lunged over the back of the couch to try and rip out a few of Denki’s hairs. The boy managed to crawl under the coffee table and slink over to Fumikage, who was watching with his arms crossed. “My favorite shirt! Limited edition _ONE OK ROCK!_ _Limited edition_!” Hanta screamed like a deranged man as he crawled over the couch and shot his tape at Denki, who was pleading for Fumikage to save him.

“I side with him on this one. Any last words before you meet God?” Fumikage smirked. Denki wailed as Hanta shot tape at him, this time finding his mark. Denki screamed in dismay as Hanta jumped up on the table and slowly dragged him closer, eyes flashing with pure anger.

“Please! I’m sorry! Spare me!” Denki sobbed as he was lugged over the rug by the unhinged Hanta. Just as the boy had captured his prey and was preparing to strike, a sweet voice piped up from the back of the other couch.

“Um, do you mean _this_ shirt?” Hanta and Denki both looked up to see Mina staring owlishly at them, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and the shirt that Hanta was ready to kill Denki over. Hanta’s face instantly flushed a pretty shade of crimson and steam blew out of his ears in nostrils at the sight of the pretty girl wearing his tee shirt. It was pretty much a not-so-secret in their friend group that Hanta had a _stupid_ crush on Mina.

“Um… Yeah, _yeah_ , that’s the one,” Hanta quipped with an equally wide-eyed stare. He unwound his tape from Denki, who slunk away to get cradled in Eijirou’s manly bosom as he patted his head and whispered reassuring words. He hopped down from the table as Mina walked around the couch, sashaying shyly.

“Um, I found it in my laundry last week. I mistook it for one of the girls’, but they said it wasn’t theirs, and when I asked a couple of the boys, they said they had no idea whose it was or where it came from, so it kinda became my new PJ shirt,” she laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of her head. Sero’s dark eyebrows knitted together as he had the sudden suspicion a plot was afoot. She scratched at her cheek thoughtfully. “You can have it back if it’s that special to you though!”

“Um…” Hanta knew there was a specific answer to the question, but she didn’t give him the time to do so. She grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him upstairs to her room, bringing him straight inside and swinging open the closet door. As he saw the shirt fly onto the bed, discarded, Sero’s cheeks burned with the acute awareness that Mina was shirtless behind that flimsy closet door. _Focus, Hanta…_ he told himself as he patiently waited for her to switch shirts. She walked out to pluck it up and carry it over, holding it out to him with a big smile.

“Here you go! Sorry about the misunderstanding.”

“Uh, no big deal…” he said dully as he accepted the shirt. She scampered right past him into the hallway to rejoin the group in the common area, and Hanta’s eyes followed her as he left, captivated simply by her being. He absentmindedly brought the shirt up to his face and nearly fainted when he realized it carried her scent like bubble gum and cherries. _Nirvana…_ he thought dimly as he collapsed into the hallway wall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hanta was mounting the stairs to head to his room later that night after a pretty rowdy session of videogames with Denki (who, after being cornered by Hanta with Eijirou’s help) had all but admitted he had purposely slipped the shirt into Mina’s laundry basket in an attempt to spark something between them. Hanta had been a little irritated with his pitiful effort to wingman for him, but, Hanta had to guess that he was a little grateful. Denki was doing it just because he wanted Hanta to be happy, after all. Hanta had agreed to let bygones be bygones (especially since his shirt was safe and sound) and settled in to play with Denki for a while. Now, he was mounting the final step with the shirt slung over his shoulder. He paused mid-step as he heard Mina’s voice floating down the hall from the direction of Momo’s room. Curious, he inched closer.

“Thanks for the tea, Momo.”

“No problem. A cup of good tea will do wonders for a saddened heart,” Momo responded. Hanta’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead. Why was Mina sad?

“I know it’s silly to be sad about it. I just really liked that shirt, you know? It was super comfy.” Hanta didn’t know why that made him happy, but it did. “Besides, it reminded me of Hanta. I knew it was his when I took it…” Hanta felt a shiver propagate from his head to his toes. He didn’t know what to do with that information. _She knew? Why would she take it…?_ He could almost imagine her hugging herself as she sighed, “It just made me feel so warm and safe…” With flushed cheeks, Hanta looked at the tee shirt draped over his shoulder. Quietly, he pulled it off and hung it on the doorknob, being extremely careful not to alert the girls to his presence. Then, he turned on his heel and marched right off to his room.

Sure, his shirt was limited edition and precious to him- but Mina’s smile was one of a kind, and much, much dearer to his heart. He tried not to smile when he heard her delighted exclaim of surprise from within his room, nor when she texted him a picture of herself back in the tee shirt, beaming with a peace sign over her eyes and the simple tag **_Thanks, Hanta! <3_** He stared at the picture for a while, thumb hovering over the screen as he tried to find a good way to respond.

 ** _Anything for my best girl!_** he decided, watching as the bubble appeared on the screen with an audible _swoosh!_ She sent a series of hearts back in response, and he dropped his phone down onto his chest as he put his hands on his face, kicking his feet a little with an excited squeal. He jumped when he heart Tenya pound his fist into the wall next to him.

“Be _quiet_ , or I swear to God, I’m spilling everything to Mina.”

“Does everyone know?!” he cried as he bolt upright in bed, half-amused and half-terrified.

“Of course everyone knows! You smile like an idiot anytime she’s within your line of sight. Now go to bed! Shoto and I are studying in here.” Hanta laughed as he heard the dull thump of Tenya smacking the hot-and-cold boy's pillow into the wall. Hanta flopped back down against his bed, looking at the adorable picture of Mina in his tee shirt again.

Yup. Limited edition, one of a kind.


	5. Good Morning, Sunshine

Category: Friendship Fluff, Crack Fluff

Characters: Eijirou Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugo, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido

Eijirou grinned wide as he pressed the “Record” button on his phone, focusing the smartphone’s camera on one Katsuki Bakugo who was stretched out on an oral surgeon’s chair slowly rousing. Eijirou waited with bated breath as Katsuki’s red eyes flickered open, bleary and unfocused. He was just rousing from surgery, having had all four of his wisdom teeth removed.

Oh, this was gonna be _so_ good.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Eijirou trilled from behind the camera. Katsuki’s head bobbled on his neck like a baby’s as he struggled for a second to pinpoint Eijirou’s voice. When he focused on the red-haired boy, he squinted his eyes real tight, inspecting him critically.

“Shitty Hair?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Eijirou responded, a hand over his mouth trying desperately to suppress his snickers. Katsuki looked around in confusion at the oral surgeon’s office room, trying to process all the equipment and the assistant who was cleaning off the bloody tools. “You just got your wisdom teeth out, Baku-bro.”

“My what?” His voice was heavy, both with the anesthesia and the thick gauze pads shoved into his cheeks, making him look like a sleepy chipmunk.

“Your wisdom teeth!” Mina repeated with a girly giggle. She came bounding into the camera frame, putting her hands on her knees as she leaned over the hazy boy. “You just had surgery! We’re here to take you home.” Katsuki stared at her with fuzzy red eyes before he slowly lifted his hands to his cheeks to prod at them, as they were still numb.

“I can’t feel my face!” The camera shook in Eijirou’s hands as he snorted with laughter. Katsuki sounded more panicked than he ever had, his eyes going wide as he tried in vain to get the nerves in his face to work. “Is it gone?” In the playback of the video, one could definitely hear Denki’s wheezing “ _Oh my God!_ ” in the background.

“Buddy. Buddy,” Hanta interjected, coming on to the other side of the screen with a goofy smile. “It’s just the anesthetic, bud. Your face is still there,” he reassured him and pulled up his phone so that Katsuki could see himself in the camera. “See?” Katsuki brought his face super close to squint at the screen, making Hanta slap a hand to his face and quiver with barely-suppressed giggles.

“Hey, that’s me.” Biting his bottom lip, Eijirou flipped his camera around for a second to focus on his reddening face.

“It’s only been three minutes and I am _losing my shit._ ”

He flipped it back around to follow Katsuki as he stumbled out of the oral surgeon’s office, supported between Hanta and Denki as he fumbled on wobbly knees. He kept cursing loudly, and Eijirou managed to record each and every person’s shocked and amused face as they walked through the waiting room. He had to stop and support his wrist with his other hand as Katsuki walked right into the floor-to-ceiling glass window next to the exit, because he was laughing so hard the phone was shaking violently. He felt like he was going to wet himself when Katsuki angrily kicked the window with the toe of his shoe and told it to “get the fuck out of the way”; as he splayed out his palms and crackles started going off, Mina hurriedly jumped in and dragged him through the exit door reassuring him, but Katsuki kept throwing glares back at the window. Eijirou got real close to the window, close enough that his reflection was in clear view in the camera.

“Sorry about him, man, he’s just real out of it. No hard feelings, right?” He was snickering as he scampered out of the exit door after the rest of his friends, thinking himself a real comedian.

He followed the unsteady Katsuki to Denki’s car, watching him fumble with the doorknob for a second.

“The motherfucker won’t open!” he complained loudly, and as he scrunched up his face Eijirou thought for a hot second that he might actually burst into angry tears. Keeping the camera trained on Katsuki’s panting form, Eijirou leaned in to open the car door for him.

“Relax, bud, it’s cool. It’s cool. Go on and get in there.” Head swaying from side to side like he was drunk, Katsuki half-slid, half-fell into the car and began tugging insistently at his seatbelt. After a few seconds of fumbling, he actually did manage to snap it in place, and he squinted up at Eijirou as Denki propped his chin on his shoulder.

“Hey, Baku-bro, how you feelin’, man?” he asked teasingly. Eijirou flipped the camera around as they waited for the boy’s response, making a few funny faces into the camera before switching it back to focus on the half-asleep Katsuki.

“I feel funny.”

“I bet you do,” Hanta laughed from the other side of the car, getting into the front passenger seat. “Come on, Denki, let’s go; we gotta get Katsuki’s pain meds from the pharmacy before they close,” he called at the blonde standing behind Eijirou before ducking into the car. Denki quipped a quiet, “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’” before hopping away from Eijirou and jumping into the driver’s seat. Eijirou walked around to the other side to slide into the middle seat next to Katsuki, with Mina squished against his right. He turned the camera on Katsuki as the car began moving, and it was only a few seconds before Katsuki began tapping his index finger against the car window.

“Where’s the fish?”

“Fish?”

“Yeah, _fish_ , Shitty Hair! What kind of shitty aquarium is this? There’s _no fish_!” Eijirou’s hand shook lightly as he tried to get out words between his insistent giggles.

“Bud- oh _Jesus_ \- bud, there’s no fish. This is a car. We’re on our way to the pharmacy.” Katsuki’s head swiveled around so he could blink hazily at Eijirou. “You know, a pharmacy, where they sell medicine and stuff.” Mina was bent over double in the seat next to him, snorting like a pig as she tried not to burst into hysterical laughter. Katsuki looked down at his lap like he was contemplating something before tipping his head to the side and looking back at the redhead.

“Can we get some vitamin gummies?”

“I’m going to _piss_ myself!” Denki howled in the driver’s seat, and Eijirou put the camera on him as he fell into the steering wheel and accidentally honked at the person in front of him. Hanta hurriedly rolled down the window to stick his head out and shout an apology at the old woman, who had flipped Denki the bird.

“I want vitamin gummies,” Katsuki insisted loudly, grabbing the headrest of Denki’s seat. Eijirou reached out to pull his thick arms down.

“Bud. Bud, relax, we’re gonna get you some vitamin gummies. Just sit back.” Under the influence, Katsuki was surprisingly docile, allowing Eijirou to push on his chest to ease him back against the seat. Katsuki looked out the window again and then scowled deeply.

“Where the _fuck_ are the fish?!”

“Ahahaha! Oh my- oh my God, _I can’t_ -!” Eijirou turned the camera on Mina, who was holding her belly with tears streaming down her pink cheeks as she giggled uncontrollably. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up! Help!”

“You should take some vitamin gummies, Mina,” Hanta quipped from the front seat.

“Vitamin gummies? Where?” Katsuki demanded, leaning over the central console to grab at the sleeve of Hanta’s tee shirt. Mina let out a pained cry and began laughing harder, her bubble-gum pink face a bright shade of crimson, while Eijirou coaxed Katsuki back into his seat with the promise of soon-to-be-obtained vitamin gummies. Once he finally got Katsuki settled back in, he flipped the camera back on himself, pointedly looking up out of the corners of his eyes as if he were addressing God, lips in a thin line.

“Please, this pharmacy better have vitamin gummies.”

“ _Where the **fuck** are the fish_?!”

“Denki, _drive_ , I’m gonna pee myself!”

“We’ve still got three minutes! There’s an empty bottle of lemon soda on the floor back there somewhere.” Eijirou had his camera trained on his face again, smirking as a resounding _slap!_ echoed in the car, following by Denki’s high-pitched yelp and Hanta’s snort of laughter.

“That’s _gross_! I’m not peeing in a bottle, especially in a car full of _boys_!”

“Would you do it in a car full of girls, though?” Hanta asked innocently. Eijirou mouthed “ _Oh my God_ ” and grinned stupidly as Mina slapped him upside his head just like she had done Denki. Hanta yelped and jumped forward into the dash, cradling his head.

“You’re being gross!”

“Well, now you don’t have to pee anymore, do you?”

“… Well, I didn’t until you said something! _Drive_!”

In the background, Katsuki kept screaming about fish and vitamin gummies. Eijirou had to inform him that no, fish could not ingest vitamin gummies, and Katsuki eloquently grunted back “That’s fucked up. They’re missing out.”

They arrived at the pharmacy and Mina scrambled out to run to the bathroom, while Denki and Hanta went inside to purchase a bottle of extra-strength Ibuprofen. Katsuki sat patiently in the car seat, rocking gently back and forth, and Eijirou kept switching the camera view, making a different face each time. Suddenly, Katsuki unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door to climb out.

“Hey, hey, where are you going?”

“Dog.”

“What?”

“There’s a dog!” Katsuki yelled as he landed unsteadily on the concrete lot. Eijirou hurriedly unbuckled his seatbelt and slid out after him just in time to capture Katsuki lumbering over to a very confused lady walking a Chihuahua puppy. Eijirou hurriedly ran over as she shrunk in on herself.

“Hey, hey, sorry, he just got his wisdom teeth out and is a little out of it,” he explained quickly as Katsuki crouched down to inspect the puppy, who was barking loudly and insistently at him. “I think he just wants to see the dog, is that okay?” He made sure to keep her face out of the frame, because that was just the polite thing to do. After Eijirou explained the situation she relaxed and laughed, leaning down to pat the puppy’s head reassuringly and ask Katsuki if he wanted to hold it. The boy’s red eyes went huge and he nodded dumbly, mouth hanging open and a little blood dripping from the corner of his mouth onto the concrete. “Aw, jeez, you’re bleeding everywhere, dude,” he laughed and grabbed the front of his shirt to hurriedly wipe at his mouth. Katsuki plunked down on his behind as the woman picked up the Chihuahua, which had calmed down and was wagging its tail furiously, and set it in Katsuki’s hands. It was such a small little thing that Katsuki could easily cup it in one big palm. “Hey, thank you, miss, I- Holy shit, Katsuki, are you crying?”

“It’s so small,” Katsuki whispered as he gently petted the baby Chihuahua’s head, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. Eijirou was losing it at that point, trying to hold the camera steady as he wheezed behind it and ran his hand repeatedly through his spiky red hair. “It’s so small,” Katsuki repeated like he was in awe. The Chihuahua leaned up to begin licking the tears dripping from his chin and he literally began ugly sobbing. Eijirou squatted down because he felt like his legs were about to give out, little giggles leaking out of his chest that felt swelled to the point of bursting.

“Bro- oh my God, this is _too fucking funny_ \- bro, bro, you good?”

“ _It’s so smalllllllll_!” Katsuki tipped his head back and howled with another ugly sob. Eijirou was crying too at this point, and he flipped the camera around to showcase watery eyes and pink cheeks.

“I’m dying, this it is, guys. This is the last thing I am ever gonna do on this Earth and it is so _fucking_ worth it- Bro, Katsuki. Hey.” Katsuki angrily barked “What?!” at him, still cradling the Chihuahua as it began lapping up his tears again. Eijirou didn’t know what he was going to say because he was too busy wheezing and crying. Blearily, Katsuki looked down at the Chihuahua again and hugged it to his chest.

“So small…”

“Eiji? Hey, what are you doing over there?” Eijirou flipped the camera as Mina approached rapidly from within the store.

“Look, look, Mina-!”

“Oh my God! A puppy! Oh my God, is he crying?”

“He’s fucking _bawling_.”

“Why?”

“ _It’s so **small**_!” Katsuki yelled at her, and Mina’s knees wobbled as she almost collapsed on the spot, laughing hysterically. She had to take a minute to compose herself, and at this point Hanta and Denki came out of the store with a bottle of Ibuprofen and a bottle of vitamin gummies. It took a few minutes to get Katsuki to relinquish the Chihuahua back to its very giddy and entertained owner, but he finally did. The whole time she was walking away Katsuki kept cooing, “Bye-bye small puppy, bye-bye,” which left the four of them puddles in the parking lot. Somehow they managed to all get back in the car without pissing themselves laughing. Eijirou held the camera as Mina opened the bottle of vitamin gummies and handed two over to Katsuki.

“Look. Look, buddy, it’s your vitamin gummies.”

“Fuck yes,” Katsuki muttered and plucked them out of Mina’s hand. He tried to scoop them into his mouth and missed, and they bounced down into his lap. He didn’t seem to realize that and looked around for a second before screaming very shrilly and loudly, which scared everyone in the car shitless. Denki cursed loudly as he jerked the wheel, swerving for a second with screeching tires before righting the car; thankfully the road was empty. He looked back into the camera with a mixture between a scowl and a laugh.

“Give him his _fucking_ vitamin gummies before he makes me _crash_!”

“Ahahahaha, holy shit, what the hell is _happeniiiiiing_?” Hanta was howling in the front seat. Snickering, Eijirou hurriedly plucked up the vitamin gummies and put them back in Katsuki’s hands.

“Hey, hey, calm down, bud, here they are, right here.” Katsuki stared at them a minute before picking one up and nibbling on it, now the epitome of calmness. Mina was back in a fetal position wheezing and crying.

“Eijirou, you’d better send me this goddamn video.”

“Oh, it’s going on YouTube, definitely. We’re going viral, guys.”

“ _WHERE ARE THE **FUCKING FISH**_?”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t, oh my God,” Eijirou wheezed as he doubled over, holding up the cell phone to record whatever Hanta and Denki were doing in the front seat. Dully, he could hear Mina say “Go left at the next light, Denki.” He took a minute to compose himself before flopping back upright, hitting the back of the seat. He flipped the camera around to look in amusement at it.

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Idiot! I said go left!” Mina screeched next to him, leaning over the center console to shake Denki’s shoulder.

“I _did_ go left!”

“Your _other_ left, dumbass!” Hanta shouted at him. “How did you ever get a drivers’ license?!”

“I’m a good driver!” Denki whined as he pulled a U-turn at a turnaround and glared at Hanta. “I just get nervous with so much going on!” Eijirou was making faces in the camera again, just reacting to the hell that was breaking loose in the small camera. His eyebrows began to inch up as he caught ashy blonde hair creeping into the side of the camera view, and then all of a sudden, Katsuki’s head thunked against his own.

“Hey, hey, guys, shut up, he’s asleep.”

“Seriously?” Mina whispered loudly. Denki and Hanta both glanced back and identical grins split their faces. Hanta grabbed his cell phone and snapped a photo, and then grabbed Denki’s and did the same.

“Oh, man, this is gold.”

“He’s so cute!” Denki laughed as he glanced up into the rearview mirror. Eijirou grinned widely and bit his lip, side-eyeing the snoozing Katsuki. His mouth was hanging open, a bit of the drool-and blood-soaked gauze poking out. Eijirou reached up to pat the side of his head.

“Sleep tight, buddy. You had a hard day,” he smirked before finally stopping the video recording.

~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki woke up just long enough to stumble in the UA dorms and totter to his bedroom, taking a dose of Ibuprofen before passing right out. It took less than five seconds for everyone to scramble down into the common room to watch Eijirou’s masterpiece, which he kept having to stop because everyone was cackling and howling too loud to hear the precious audio he had recorded. Aizawa soon came out to ask them what the hell they were laughing so hard about so Eijirou showed him the video too, and even he managed to crack a smile and snort.

The next morning Katsuki awoke groggy but fully functional, with no memory of anything he had said while under the effect of the drugs. He kept getting really mad when they would snicker behind his backs, demanding to know what the hell was so funny, and they all lost their minds when Denki snatched up Mineta and screamed “It’s so small!” at the top of his lungs. Katsuki riddled out then that someone had an incriminating video of him, and he chased Eijirou all over the dorms threatening to blow him up unless he let him see it. Eijirou finally relented when he promised not to blow up his phone, and they all gathered in the living room again to see Katsuki’s reaction to his drug-induced self.

It was almost as golden as the event itself. He want pale, wide-eyed, hands over his mouth as he watched himself act utterly ridiculous. He jumped up and started shouting obscenities when he got to the part where he started sobbing over the Chihuahua and had to be restrained from destroying the phone by Hanta, Tenya, Fumikage, _and_ Izuku. By the time they finished the video he was red-faced and sucking in heaving breaths, far beyond the point of mortified. Eijirou, between laughs, kept telling him that it was okay and it was all in good fun. He calmed down a bit, muttering something about not putting it on YouTube. Eijirou hadn’t after all, thinking it unmanly to do something like that without permission.

But Denki did and it had ten thousand views already. That was a secret until Neito Monoma zoomed up with a plush Chihuahua in hand screaming “It’s so small!” and they had to stop Katsuki from jumping on him and tearing him to shreds, and then they had to keep him from killing Denki when he admitted it was he who had put it on YouTube (it now had fifty thousand views and counting).

He came around, after a while, and when he was in an especially good mood or was trying to cheer one of them up, he would stroll casually past a window, hands in his sweatpants pockets, before angrily screaming “ _Where the fuck are the fish_?” It never failed to get them all howling. They also got him vitamin gummies for every holiday they could imagine, without fail, and it got to the point they all had to take them on a daily basis because their dorm cabinet was full of eight bottles or so at any given time. They would randomly snatch up random objects and fake cry yelling “It’s so small!” whenever Katsuki was around, and his mood depending on whether he would just flip them the bird or jump at them, palms crackling with mini-explosions.

Needless to say, the video went viral and became the official meme of UA, and it was easily Eijirou’s crowing achievement.

Payback sure was a bitch, though, because Katsuki had a devilish grin and phone in hand as Eijirou was going under for his own wisdom tooth surgery… But that’s a story for another time.


	6. Off the Beaten Path

Category: Romantic Fluff

Characters: Momo Yaoyorozu, Yosetsu Awase

Momo’s vertebrae decompressed with a series of satisfying pops as she stretched her hands over her head and slowly bent back into a forty-five-degree angle. With a contented hum, she held the position for several seconds to ensure her lower back muscles were stretched properly before straightening back up and dropping her arms back to her sides. She did some leg stretches, priming her femoral and tibular muscles for exercise, before standing and planting her hands on her hips to admire the lovely Saturday morning. It was about nine-thirty, pleasantly warm with a consistent cooling breeze, and plenty of cloud cover to protect her from the worst of the burning sun. The birds were chirping. Car engines hummed in the distance. The air smelled sweetly of the various floral fragrances spilling out from the dormitory’s landscaping.

Really, could she have asked for a better morning to go jogging?

She ensured that her laces were tied properly before hopping down the steps of the porch, hitting the concrete pathway in a medium-paced jog. Her arms pumped at her sides as her legs kicked back in series, and she kept her breathing in a steady rhythm to ensure maximum stamina. She was determined to break her mile record today- under nine minutes. Momo wasn’t the most agile or athletic of the students in her class, but she could still attain her little victories here and there. _I can do it!_

There was a walking track not far from the dormitory that was always open to students and instructors. Momo jogged there in no time at all, and once she trotted through the open gate and greeted the security guard who moderated the comings and goings, she paused to take a swig of water. She took out her phone to ready her timer and then secured it to the plastic holder at her waist. The jaunt there had warmed up her body nicely, so she was feeling quite good when she walked down to the walking track proper. The spongey synthetic rubber-like material bowed slightly under her steps. U.A. spared no expense in any aspect of their campus, so Momo didn’t doubt that the material was of the highest quality and scientifically designed the erase almost all impact damage to the joints. She made a mental note to do some research into its chemical composition; one never knew when the material could come in handy.

“Right then! Nine minutes or less!” she crowed and started her timer, then took off down the track.

Most people preferred to listen to music while running, but not Momo. There was something cathartic to her about the natural world. The walking track doubled as a small nature park, landscaped professionally with shady hardwoods and flowering bushes. Momo usually ran at this time because the animal activity peaked mid-morning; the tree boughs were alive with dozens of birdsongs, melding together in one harmonious concerto. Bumblebees bobbled alongside the path, flying from one flower to the next to gather the succulent nectar. They were joined by a colorful assortment of butterflies, which elegantly flitted along with not much care of their rounder, fatter cousins. The park had a healthy population of squirrels, as well, which would scramble down from the trees to feast on discarded acorns only to fling themselves back up the trunks when Momo came jogging along. They would peer at her with beady black eyes from the boughs and would only descend back to their nutty buffet once she was rounding the corner of the track ahead.

A third of a way into the mile Momo checked her timer. _Two minutes and thirty seconds! I’m making great time!_ She thought jovially and replaced the phone to its holster. She swept the back of her hand across her forehead to flick away the beads of sweat that were accumulating there. A few of her fluffy black strands had fallen out of her bun; she always had possessed impossibly thick hair, and it seemed like it absorbed all the heat from the atmosphere when she was exercising. Just as she was sucking a little more water from her sports bottle, she spotted someone curled up off to the side of the track a few yards ahead. _Oh no! Maybe they’re injured!_ She thought worriedly and sped up her pace a little.

“Hello? Can I help you?” she called out to them. They were seated on the other side of a park bench so she could not see their features very well, but she thought she spied a familiar patterned headband and spiky black hair.

“Yaoyorozu?” Sure enough, that was him.

“Awase!” She stuttered to a halt past the bench to find him smiling tersely and clutching at his ankle. He had his sneaker off and sock pulled down, and she hissed at the gnarly swelling that had enveloped the joint. “What happened?” she asked and crouched down in front of him.

“Well,” he said with a sheepish smile, “I kinda surprised a sleeping raccoon and she didn’t much appreciate it.” Momo blinked in confusion. A raccoon would be sleeping well off the path; what reason did he have to go tromping off into the underbrush? When she asked him, his face took on a carnation-pink hue and he mumbled, “I, uh, kinda had to take a _leak_ , Yaoyorozu…” In turn, her face blazed with a rosy blush and she nodded excessively in understanding.

“Oh! Right! Of course!”

“A-anyway, while I was scramblin’ to get away from her, I tripped over the tree roots and twisted it tryin’ to catch myself.” Momo frowned as she situated herself on her knees, tapping her thighs to indicate for him to prop his foot on the pillowy surface. He leaned back on his hands and grunted before hefting up his leg. A string of curse words flew from his mouth as he quickly shifted his foot from the ground onto her lap. His shoulders sagged after the pain stopped streaming through his nerves and he stared at the swollen joint through lidded eyes. “Man, this is a pain. I look so uncool,” he muttered, almost to himself. Momo gave him a bright smile and shook her head.

“These things happen! Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He flushed again and looked away with a small pout, making her wonder if he didn’t intend to utter it aloud. _That’s irrelevant. His ankle is terribly swollen. I hope he hasn’t torn a ligament or even broken anything!_ She thought worriedly. She had taken a few first-aid lessons from Recovery Girl for use in rescue training and missions, so with a few manipulations she would be able to get a clearer picture of what damage he had done. Only an x-ray and MRI would conclusively diagnose any injury, but it would be better for Momo to have a general idea so she could determine how she should proceed with moving him. “Awase, I’m going to manipulate your ankle to see what you could have damaged. I’ll be as gentle as I can, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, do whatever you gotta do,” he grumbled, but glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes. Leaning down, she gently began prodding various places in his foot. She started on the top of his foot to see if he had damaged the tendons there.

“That hurt?”

“No.” She shifted to the lateral side of his foot, starting near the toes. “That doesn’t hurt eit- Shit! Shit! _Ow_!” He began to cry out once she began palpating the area near his ankle. There was both a tendon and some nerve endings there, so it could be that he either stretched the ligament or the nerves were reacting to the swelling. Still, it gave her a better picture of where the injury could be.

“Sorry, Awase.”

“S’Fine,” he huffed. His face had taken on a slight flush and sweat was dampening the bottom of his headband. _He must be in a lot of pain…_

“Do you know how it rolled?”

“Um… I think it rolled inward,” he answered uncertainly. Momo tutted and glanced back down at his foot. _Given the method of injury, it could either be his Achilles or his peroneus brevis tendon… I’m hoping it’s the latter, because tearing his Achilles could put him in physical therapy for months!_ Tentatively, she grabbed the sole of his foot and pushed it upwards, flexing it such that it would stretch the muscles of his calf. He winced a little bit but did not yelp in pain like before, making Momo smile. “What? Was that a good thing?”

“Yes. It makes it very likely that you haven’t torn anything up too bad,” she responded. “Let’s see what this does, though,” she continued and pushed his foot inward. His back arched and he threw his head back with a howl of several very unsavory words, so Momo hastily ceased the flexion. He kept his head tipped back for a few seconds, chest heaving and fingers digging into the loamy soil, before he let out a long groan and wearily looked back to her.

“ _Fuck_ , that hurt.” When she apologized again, he frowned slightly and shrugged. “S’not your fault… I’m the one who tripped over myself like a dumbass. Nurse Yaoyorozu, do you have a diagnosis for me?” he asked with a teasing grin. She blushed brightly at the nickname and spluttered out a reply.

“O-Oh! Yes, I think so. I think you may have either injured or torn this tendon right here,” she stated and ran her fingertip ever-so-slightly along the lateral side of his foot, being careful not to apply any pressure and make his pain worse. He made a _tsk_ sound and flexed his leg muscles experimentally, and the way his entire body tensed indicated to Momo that it would be difficult for him to walk. “We should get you to Recovery Girl. She has the proper machinery to tell for sure. I’ll text my classmates so they can send for someone to collect you. I’m sure they can get down the track just fi-”

“Ain’t necessary,” he grumped. His hand snapped up to wrap tightly around the metal arm of the bench, and he pushed himself off the ground with the other hand. He clumsily tucked his good leg under his body to get some leverage in standing up. Momo’s hands fluttered nervously around his injured foot.

“Awase! You shouldn’t move too much! Be careful not to bear any weight on this foot; I can help you to the entrance to the track, but we really should have someone get you from there so you don’t injure yourself further!” As gently as she could while moving fast, she placed his foot back down on the ground and scrambled up to grab him underneath his armpit and help him clumsily climb to his feet. Per Momo’s instructions, he refrained from moving his injured leg at all and just let it slide in the dirt and leaves as he hobbled to a standing position, but even just the contact with the ground made him hiss in agony. His arm wobbled precariously at it was forced to bear all his weight, and Momo saw that his knuckles were glaring white as he gripped the metal arm. “Here. Come to this tree,” she instructed him.

Yosetsu Awase was not by any means a big guy, but her breath still left her in an _oof_! as his full weight sunk against her. She slung his arm around her shoulders and supported him by the waist as she dragged him to the trunk of the nearest tree.

“How the tables have turned.” A curious “huh?” popped out of her and she looked down at him with wide eyes. He grinned wryly and explained, “Remember the summer training camp? I was haulin’ you around the woods like a sack of potatoes…” Her cheeks brightened as the blood rushed to them, and she looked away shyly.

“Oh… Yes. The circumstances are a little different here, though. You saved my life that night.” They reached the tree, and he reached out to brace a hand against the rough trunk before leaning away from her, spinning on his good foot to flop his back into the woody surface. He gave her a wry smirk.

“Hey, you never know. You coulda saved _my_ life this morning. I coulda been out here, all alone, and dragged off by some wolves.” Momo snorted at his obvious joking.

“Awase, there are no wolves out here.”

“How do you know? Just because you haven’t seen ‘em don’t mean they don’t exist.” His relentless joshing had her giddy, and she held her hand up to her mouth as she began to giggle.

“You’re too much. Seriously, though, walking a third of a mile in your condition, even with my help, will take us half the day. I’ll send for someone,” she told him through little laughs and pulled out her phone. She quirked an eyebrow when she noticed her timer had just hit exactly nine minutes. _More important things to tend to than my record,_ she thought and swiped out of the app. She typed up a quick message in their class group chat and sent it before returning her phone to the waist holster. “I just sent for help. They’re telling Mr. Aizawa and…” Her words trailed off as she looked at him. He was staring at her with a lidded, heated gaze and this little smile on his face that made butterflies take off in her stomach. “I…” she murmured incoherently when his hand reached out to gently cup her cheek, and she compulsively straightened up- and leaned slightly into the touch.

“You’re _really_ pretty.” Momo had never heard a tone so full of… endearing admiration. As soon as his hand met her cheek and he uttered the words, his eyes widened, as if he realized he had actually done so instead of it being in his head. His face flushed red and he went to drop his hand, sputtering out an apology, but Momo pinned it to her face with both of her own.

“No! Don’t apologize!” she cried and took a few unsteady steps forward. Now self-conscious herself, she flushed as well and looked timidly down at her sneakers. “I-I… No one’s ever called me pretty before…” she admitted meekly. She peered up at him through her lashes to find him wearing an incredulous look.

“Really? But you’re fucking _beautiful_.” His use of a curse word only made the compliment more impactful, and her face grew unbearably hot as she smiled blissfully. She squirmed a little, knowing she was beginning to sweat a little against his hand cupping her face, but unwilling to let it go.

“W-well… Mina says that I’m so intelligent that boys find it intimidating,” she chuckled diffidently. He snorted in laughter and leaned back against the trunk with an amused smirk.

“You? _Intimidating_? No offense, but you’re about as intimidating as a wet kitten.” She let out an affronted gasp and went to glare at him, but the sultry smirk on his face made all opposition die in her throat. “Guess that’s good for me that they think so,” he said in a low voice, and she yelped as he grabbed her arm and tugged her forward. There was a slight incline in the ground, so she stumbled all the way to the tree and landed against his body with one hand splaying over his chest. The other was now being gripped tightly, and he brought it to his mouth to lay a lingering kiss to the top of her hand. _How prince-like…_ she thought faintly. “I don’t think I could stand for having _competition_.” The smirk he shot her wasn’t prince-like at all, rather channeling all the devilish and playful energy of a rogue. Like a princess ensnared by his handsome charms, she could only stare owlishly at him with painfully pink cheeks. His hand dropped hers, letting it land on his shoulder, before cupping her face again and threading his fingertips into the black strands that had fallen from her bun. “Yaoyao-”

“Momo,” she interrupted quickly. She then flushed, realizing how rude it had been to do so. “C-call me Momo. Please.” He snorted slightly and his smirk widened.

“Momo,” he corrected poignantly. “Thanks for saving me today.” She was about to assert once more that it really wasn’t anything like that night, but he took the opportunity to interrupt _her_. He leaned forward to envelop her mouth in a searing kiss. She inhaled sharply through her nose as her breath was all but stolen from her. Whatever response she had on her tongue descended into fog, as her mind hazed until all she could focus on was the movement of his lips against hers. He lit a fire over her body as his hands roamed her curves, finally settling with a consistent blaze at the small of her back. Very distantly the thought bloomed that this was her first kiss and that she had to tell Mina about it. From how _good_ it felt, it was obviously a hell of a first kiss. She felt like she could get lost in the kiss, in _him_ , forever.

They broke apart with startled jumps when they heard Katsuki and Eijirou screaming her name in the near distance. She began to flutter about nervously, fixing her sports bra and jogging pants despite the fact they were form-fitted and not rumpled at all, while he reclined back against the tree with a self-satisfied look.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“What? Yes- I mean, ugh- is that relevant right now?” she huffed with a dour glare that only made his grin widen. He let out a few chuckles as she pouted at him, totally embarrassed by his unbothered attitude, then gestured with a tilt of his head at the track. She whirled on her heel to find the two boys striding up with Recovery Girl’s robots holding a stretcher between them. Laughing nervously, she cheerfully called out to them and tried to seem inconspicuous as she ran up.

“Hey, guys! Thank you so much. I don’t think I could’ve gotten him back to the entrance by myself.”

“It’s no problem, Yaomomo!” Eijirou smiled kindly. Katsuki began to gripe, and without breaking eye contact with the girl, Eijirou elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Ow, what the hell?! Ugh, fine, whatever! It’s not a big deal!” he yelled angrily and stalked over to the boy leaning up against the tree. “Come on, loser, the sooner your ass is on this stretcher, the sooner I can get back to weight training!” Momo frowned worriedly as Katsuki helped the injured boy back to his feet, but despite his harsh words, he was gentle in helping him limp the short distance to the stretcher.

“Are you coming back with us, Yaomomo?” Eijirou asked as the robots began to trundle off with their charge in tow. Katsuki stomped along ahead, yelling at his friend to hurry up.

“Oh! No, I would like to finish my run, I think…” she murmured, her gaze trailing off to the stretcher. She pushed past him to run after it a few paces, cupping her hands to her mouth. “Hey! Awa- I mean, Yosetsu!” He glanced up, a big grin splitting his face at her calling him by his given name. “Come running with me sometime!”

“Sure thing!” he called back and gave her a thumbs-up before flopping back down against the stretcher. Eijirou walked past her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and grinning, which made her flush pink as answer his unasked question. Momo waited until they had disappeared around the corner, then grabbed her phone to reset her timer to two-minutes and fifty seconds, the approximate time she had stumbled across Yosetsu on the track.

 _Hmm… Maybe I’ll go off the beaten path and aim for eight minutes!_ She resolved with a smile and put the phone back before taking off in a fast jog.

After all, the morning she had spent off the beaten path had already been quite interesting. She might as well keep the streak going! No doubt, there were rich rewards waiting at the end…


	7. The Wonder of Small Things

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Momo Yaoyaorozu, Yosetsu Awase

Additional Tags: Mermaid AU

The early morning air was cool on Yosetsu’s skin as he tromped down the worn dirt path leading to the rocky shore, his cast nets slung over his shoulder. The clinking of the attached metal weights was the only sound in these pre-dawn hours; the sea birds were just beginning to blink sleep away from their beady black eyes and ruffle their feathers to shake away the dew that clung to them like diamond beads. There was that, and the scraping of his worn soles on the even more worn dirt of the path carrying him down to the sloshing sea.

Soon the earthen incline gave way to slick, salty rocks against which the frothing white waves continuously crashed in an endless melody. A wooden dock jutted out into the dark waters, secured to the last bit of earth before the rocky shore. The path Yosetsu traveled suddenly veered level to snake alongside the collection of smooth rocks, but rather than following it just yet, he carefully picked his way a few feet down the precarious shoreline. Mouth drawn into a taut line of concentration, he poked each rock firmly with the toe of his boot to ensure it would not dislodge before setting his full weight against it. In doing so, he gradually approached the thick brown mud barely visible at the base of the rocky slope. Just above the rolling waves, he stopped, setting a hand on his hip and gazing intently at the horizon. A smile crept up his lips as the first tinge of red began to bleed into the indigo sky, slowly following by the burning yellow sun.

Yosetsu always watched the sunrise before setting out to sea. He viewed it almost as a good-luck ritual at this point, a prayer for a plentiful catch. Besides, the sunrises off the rocky shore downhill from his solitary, modest cabin were more beautiful than that you could see from the grandest mansion, at least in his eyes. He loved the way the red, orange, and yellow spilled forth into the sparkling waves like paint poured over a canvas, bleeding together in colorful harmony. At the same time, it spread upwards into the black ink of the sky, like a battalion of soldiers forcing back the terrible demons of the night from whence they came to return light to the world. The golden-white sun bloomed on the horizon like a trembling bubble, ready to burst at any moment with energy but never doing so. Yosetsu’s smile grew with every inch the sun traveled up the blanket of night, marveling black turning into brilliant blue. As soon as the sun detached itself from the horizon with one final flicker, he then turned to pick his way back up the slope and tromp down the remainder of the path to the dock where his humble fishing vessel was moored. The sunset was beautiful, but a young man had a job to do, after all.

The little boat moaned and groaned as the waves playfully tossed it about. The white canvas sail flapped languidly in greeting at him. Yosetsu tossed his casting net into the boat before grabbing the mooring rope to untie it. Once he removed it from the post, he tossed it into the ship as well and carefully eased one leg into the boat. It rocked precariously with the addition of his weight, drifting closer to the dock; after taking a moment to ensure his balance was sufficient, he swiftly pushed off from the pier and drew his other leg into the small vessel. The force pushed the boat away from the wooden structure and out into the waves. Yosetsu grabbed a little paddle and stuck it into the water, then began to row out to sea.

His boat was little more than a dinghy fit for two, so he did not row far- only to where the water was about fifteen feet deep or so, with the land still clearly in view. He hefted up his anchor and tossed it into the water; in plunked into the waves with a tremendous splash before plummeting the short distance down to the seafloor, where it sunk into the thick mud and probably startled some scuttling crabs or perhaps disgruntling a flounder. Yosetsu picked up his casting net and spread it out with both his arms, hooking some of the salty thin rope with his teeth. With practiced movements, he then flung the net about a yard into the water. The heavy weights sewn into the rope caused the thin and light material to sink rapidly down into the depths and hopefully trap a collection of nice fish and crustaceans within the spiderweb-like netting. Once the tension slacked in the string in his hand, he swiftly reeled it in.

Water cascaded from the net as he hauled it over the side and splashed around as the trapped fish fearfully flapped about. Yosetsu grabbed one of the metal ten-gallon-buckets that stocked the boat and scooped some seawater into it before loading the acceptable fish from his haul into it. It seemed his daily ritual had again borne fruit; the net contained several sizeable crabs and a nice, fat trout, perfect for roasting over a crackling fire. He had only just begun, but he still grinned to himself at the possibility of a haul so good he could take a day off.

Yosetsu continued fishing until the sun had reached its highest point. By this time, he had stripped off his loose cotton shirt; the hot rays made the thin sheen of sweat glimmer on his tanned skin not unlike the light playing over the water. He had five ten-gallon buckets filled to their brims with a various assortment of fish and other sea creatures. He grinned as his eyes swept over the impressive haul, his mind whirling of the various ways he could salt and season and grill them over the next few days. Two-thirds of his catch he was going to take into town to sell to the local fish merchant and earn himself a pretty penny. _Could probably get myself some new boots,_ he thought as he wiggled his big toe, watching the pink flesh and dirty toenail poke through the frayed leather.

There was a little more room in the last bucket, so Yosetsu decided to try his luck with one more cast. He flung the net out into the water and waited for it to sink to the muddy bottom, holding the string tight in his hand. His eyebrow quirked when he the thin rope lurched some in his grip. He grinned, thinking he had caught himself a nice fat monster fish. However, the string then lurched violently in his grasp, making him cry out and stumble over to the edge of the boat. He planted the sole of his boot on the edge and leaned back at a forty-five-degree angle, gritting his teeth as he gripped the rope tight with both hands.

“Nuh-uh. You’re not getting away from me, _dinner_!” he grunted through clenched teeth. The rope dug into the calloused flesh of his palms to tear away the roughened skin and bite the soft, vulnerable layer underneath. It began to burn terribly, and smears of red blood began to appear on every inch of the gray-white nylon he tugged back, but he refused to let go. His eyes went as wide as saucers as a massive, glittering red tail began to thrash at the surface of the water. He began to whoop and holler with glee. “Well dammit if that ain’t the biggest redfish I’ve ever seen!” he howled. The crimson scales gleamed in the white sunlight, sparkling like millions of fine-cut rubies. The shade was a bit vermillion to be a redfish, and he couldn’t spot the signature brown circular mark that identified the species, but if it wasn’t a redfish, then what the hell was it?

As it turned out, it was _not_ a redfish.

Yosetsu went slack-jawed as the gigantic tail disappeared under the water, only to be replaced with the upper half of a human woman. She tugged aggressively at the white nylon netting twisted snug around her body, but her fine fingernails had no chance of rending the thickly woven rope. She had thick black hair that was voluminous even with the water streaming from the strands in rivulets, and pretty black eyes that shone like onyx pearls in her pale white face. He gawked at her shamelessly, the rope loosening in his hands from the shock. “A mermaid,” he breathed when his tongue finally decided it wanted to work, “I caught a fucking _mermaid_.”

Her head snapped to him once he spoke. Her gaze dropped to the thread of rope connecting the net proper to himself, and he hastily tightened his grip again lest she decide to try and spring away. Her eyes slowly trailed back up to his face; they were hard, calculating, distrusting… but gleaming with the tiniest bit of curiosity. Yosetsu flushed a little under her unyielding stare and bit down hard on his lip as he contemplated what exactly he should do.

Mermaids were urban legends, fairy tales, the subject of raucous sea shanties- yet here he was with one tangled in his cast net! If he hauled her in and showed her off in the nearby town, he was almost guaranteed to skyrocket into the highest tax bracket. He could sell her off to a zoo or a scientist or even the government for millions, and _boom_! No more hovel on the seaside, no more slaving in a dinghy to drag in fish all day- he’d be lounging in a hammock sipping piña coladas out of coconuts surrounded by pretty girls in bikinis! He giggled languorously at the colorful fantasy. Yet, when he looked back at the beautiful mermaid staring silently at him, the dream bubble burst over his head.

Guilt began to burn like acid in the back of his throat. What was he _thinking_? She was a living creature, no different than he. With her tail suspended below the water, it was like he was looking at a human girl. How dare he fantasize about profiting off her misery? He tried to ignore the whispers of dollar signs in his ears as he slowly crouched down, beckoning her over with a hand. “It’s all right. Come here.”

She tilted her head to the side as she eyed him warily. He couldn’t blame her; mermaid horror stories probably consisted of terrible tales of what humans would do if she were ever caught. Smiling gently like he would at a stray dog, he beckoned her again. “I promise I won’t hurt you. That netting must hurt, right? Lemme untangle you.” The mermaid hesitated for a moment, then slowly swam up to the edge of the boat. The waves had calmed down since early morning, so now he could see her vermillion tail gliding just underneath the surface; wispy pinkish-red fins adorned the scaly body. It seemed she even had a flair for fashion, as she had strings of colorful glass bits and dark green kelp wrapped around her midriff like a belt with lines of them trailing down around her like a shredded skirt. He was so busy staring at the interesting garment that he hadn’t noticed she had leaned up to rest her arms on the edge of the boat- that is, until she coughed politely right in his ear.

He scrambled back too fast and landed on his rump, rocking the boat tremendously. She giggled cutely at him, bobbing up and down with the boat’s movement. With pink cheeks, he straightened his headband and crawled back to the other side of the vessel to sit on his knees in front of her. When he procured his pocketknife, her dark eyes flickered to the chipped blade before looking at him nervously. “It’s all right. I’ll be careful not to cut you. I just don’t think I can untangle you with how much you thrashed around,” he explained softly. He waited until she nodded slowly in acknowledgment before getting to work.

He started with the netting around her chest. Due to her whipping and flapping around, most of the net had wound itself around her middle. It was drawn painfully tight, digging into her supple white skin, and there was a faint wheeze in her breaths as she struggled to breathe with the tightness. Yosetsu wormed the tip of his index finger beneath the thin rope to pull it up enough to slip the blade under, careful not to nick her, and slice through the nylon. He tried not to think about how expensive that net had been and how he would probably have to forgo new boots in favor of purchasing a new one. _At least I got a good haul today,_ he lamented with a wry smile.

Once he had cut through a good portion of the netting around her middle, the mermaid released a long sigh of relief. Her body sagged down into the water a little and she drank in a few heavy breaths; Yosetsu waited patiently for her to recover from the strain, as he was sure it had been uncomfortable for her, then began to work at the netting around her neck. That was the most painstaking part, as he had to be exceptionally careful not to cut the artery or vein there. She craned her chin up as he diligently worked, but her black eyes remained fixed on him the entire time. It was quite daunting, actually, and a faint blush remained on his cheeks throughout the entire ordeal.

“Here we go,” he smiled as he pulled the loose netting over her head. For a second, he thought of the way a groom removed a veil from the face of his bride, and his blush darkened to a plum color. The mermaid seemed not to notice, for she was smiling giddily and shaking her cascades of black hair away from the clinging strands of the net. The afternoon sun had dried her hair out considerably, making it shine like threads of obsidian. Transfixed, Yosetsu could not help but reach out to touch it; it was incredibly soft against his fingertips, despite the incredible amount of salt it came into contact with daily. The mermaid didn’t shy away, only watched him with a blank expression. “Sorry,” he stuttered when he realized what he was doing and snatched his hand away. “It’s just, um, really pretty.” His heart thumped in his chest at the happy smile she gave him. She hadn’t said a word yet, so who knew if she even knew what he was saying? She was probably just reacting for his benefit.

He motioned for her to roll onto her side, and she did so, exposing that giant vermillion tail to his awaiting eyes. _Rubies,_ he thought again as he beheld the magnificent appendage. He leaned over the edge of the boat to begin cutting at the netting. It was much less careful work due to the healthy hardness of her scale, so he finished quickly. With a small sigh, he dragged the last of the ruined netting from her body and deposited it in the small fishing boat. With his back turned, he fully expected her to disappear beneath the water and swim away into the depths, never to return. He frown when he heard no splashing, however, and turned back to see her still there. She had her chin propped up on her arms and was just gazing at him with a tiny smile.

“Um… I’m done now. You can go now if you want to,” he told her awkwardly. Her smile widened, and for the first time, she spoke.

“What’s your name?” The question threw him for a loop; really, at this point he thought her to be mute, or at least incapable of human language.

“Y-yosetsu Awase,” he stammered quickly. “What about you?” he asked and edged a little closer to her. “Do you have a name?” She made a series of clicking and chirping sounds that he supposed was merfolk language. He had no idea of how even to begin replicating it, so he just gave her a crooked smile. “Uh, that’s, uh, a pretty name.” She giggled airily and pulled herself up so that they were now eye-level. Her face was only a few inches from his. He could kiss her if he wanted to. _Stop that,_ he scolded his shameless unconscious.

“You didn’t understand that, did you?”

“No. Absolutely not. Not a word.” She giggled again. He found himself smiling at how beautiful her laugh was. It reminded him of the bells ringing in the docks of the city harbor as they signaled the morning sail of the shrimp and charter boats. Her body bobbed up and down with the waves, occasionally bringing her face a few centimeters closer to his. Her black eyes continuously searched his expression, but he knew not what she was searching for.

“Well, then… Why don’t you give me a human name?”

One hears thousands of names in their lifetime, but as he gaped at her, he could not even think of one. Subconsciously, he glanced down and spied the peachy-pink color of her wispy fins.

“How about… Momo?” 

“Mo-mo?” she echoed inquisitively. He flushed, thinking she found it ridiculous, but then she flashed him a toothy grin. “I like it. You may call me Momo, Yosetsu Awase.”

“You can just call me Yosetsu,” he corrected her quickly. When she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, he quickly explained, “Humans have two names, a first and a last. Humans usually only call each other by one, so… You can call me Yosetsu.” He figured it would be too much trouble to explain the intricacies and manners of given and surnames, so he just elected to keep things simple. She smiled cutely at him.

“All right, then… Yosetsu.” The conversation died, but not uncomfortably so. Yosetsu very much liked just looking at her. She really was a magnificently splendorous creature, and he couldn’t believe that thirty minutes ago, he was considering selling her off to the highest bidder.

She poked around his boat a little, inquiring about the various tools and such he carried with him. He found her delight and curiosity to be more refreshing than the briskest sea breeze and smiled all the while. She was like a charmed young child, entranced by even the most mundane of human artifacts. He gave her a cowrie shell that he had fished in with his net, and she reclined back in the water to watch the light play over its brown-striped surface with the purest look of rapture he had ever seen. It reminded him of how much he really took for granted in day-to-day life. How had the wonder of all the small things in the world just dissolved away? _Although,_ he thought wryly, _I do have my sunrises._

“Momo.” She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Will you… come back tomorrow morning? Before the sun rises?”

~~~~~~~~~~

The early morning air was cool on Yosetsu’s skin as he tromped down the worn dirt path leading to the rocky shore, but he didn’t have his cast net with him this time. The scraping of his worn soles on the even more worn dirt was the only sound in these pre-dawn hours; the sea birds were just beginning to blink sleep away from their beady black eyes and ruffle their feathers to shake away the dew that clung to them like diamond beads. There was that, and Momo’s greeting floating on the sea breeze from the shoreline.

Like every morning, Yosetsu ignored the veer in the dirt path to instead pick his way down the slick collection of rocks to stop just short of the splashing waves. Momo lay with her upper half sprawled over a large, flat stone with her black hair gathered over her shoulder, and the milk-white skin of her mostly bare back gleamed like limestone in the moonlight. Her crimson tail floated on the surface of the water behind her, those delicate pink fins rippling like fine silk in the swilling waves. “Good morning,” he smiled as he came to a stop beside her.

“Hello. What is it you wanted me to see?”

“Just be patient,” he instructed her breathily as he eased himself into a sitting position on the flat but slimy-wet rock. He eased off his boots and socks and set them aside so he could dip his bare feet into the cool water. He dug his toes into the goopy brown mud with a contented sigh, then looked over as Momo swam a little closer to him. She was eyeing him curiously, like he was going to bring out something at any moment. “Just look at the horizon,” he ordered, punctuating it with a point of his index finger. She blinked but obediently did as he asked, reclining against the rocks and staring out at the point where sky met sea. A smile crept up his lips as the first tinge of red began to bleed into the indigo sky, slowly following by the burning yellow sun, and he looked at her to see her eyes gradually widening.

The red, orange, and yellow spilled forth into the sparkling waves like paint poured over a canvas, bleeding together in colorful harmony. At the same time, it spread upwards into the black ink of the sky, like a battalion of soldiers forcing back the terrible demons of the night from whence they came to return light to the world. The golden-white sun bloomed on the horizon like a trembling bubble, ready to burst at any moment with energy but never doing so. Yosetsu had seen this image countless mornings; it had been burned into his mind like a brand, so he did not need to look at it that morning to marvel. No, instead, he marveled at the gorgeous mermaid beside him as she beheld her first sunrise. Her pink lips parted with an awed gasp while her black eyes shone gold as they caught the first rays of the morning sun. So enraptured was she that she didn’t even smile; she just stared at the sun as it inched up the sky, until with one final flicker it detached itself from the horizon to rise into the brilliant expanse of blue.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispered. He raised an eyebrow as a tear leaked out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. He wondered if he had been so moved the first time that he saw the sunrise. Probably not, because unlike Momo, he took the wonder of the small things for granted. She turned to him with a beaming, grateful smile so big it made her eyes scrunch up a little. “Thank you, Yosetsu. I’ll _never_ forget this moment, never.” He blushed at the solemnness of her vow and scratched at the back of his head bashfully.

“Well… If you want to… You can see it every morning. The sunrise, I mean. I do it every day before I go out to sea.”

“Then I’ll be here every morning waiting for you,” she promised. He gave her a lopsided grin. She pulled herself up onto the rocks so that they were eye-level. Her face was only a few inches from his. He could kiss her, if he wanted to- and oh, how he _wanted_ to. Her eyes flickered down to his lips as he experimentally leaned in a little closer. She did not retreat from his advance, only gazed invitingly at him with those eyes like black pearls.

“You know somethin’, Momo?” His breath ghosted over her face, and his lips hovered mere millimeters from hers.

“What?” The word was but a whisper, a flitter of wind against his mouth.

“ _You’re_ the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as he closed the minuscule distance and gently pressed his mouth to hers. His hands found her waist, just above the junction of ruby scales to skin covered by strings of glass shards and kelp wrappings, and tenderly caressed the soft flesh still gleaming with seawater. He only held the kiss for a mere moment, as fleeting as the crash of a wave against the shore. When he pulled back, her onyx eyes glittered as she smiled sheepishly and cupped his wind-roughened cheek in her hand. There, in the space where sky met sea met land, Yosetsu again marveled the wonder of all the small things in the world and was _thankful_.


	8. The Healing Properties of Oolong Tea

Category: Hurt and Comfort, Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Katsuki Bakugo

The ceramic mug was pleasantly warm in Ochako’s hands, as it had absorbed much of the heat emanating from the piping hot Oolong tea Momo had courteously prepared for their weekly girls’ night. Steam was curling in faint tendrils in the air above the cup, which was still full to the brim with the dark liquid sweetened with honey, sugar, and a dash of cream.

The tea, though still hot, was the perfect temperature to drink after several minutes of cooling, but Ochako made no move to do so. The heat continued to bleed out of the cup into her fingers and palms, turning the soft flesh a faint hue of pink. Distantly, Ochako heard Kyoka quip something about her tea going cold, and so she robotically lifted it to her mouth to take a dainty but mechanical sip. Its robust flavor, highlighted by the undertones of the sweeteners, spread a comforting warmth through her mouth and body. Ochako barely noticed. She was too busy staring at the entranceway leading up to the boys’ dormitory rooms, where one Katsuki Bakugo had made his exit not three minutes before.

“Guys… Does Bakugo seem a little more… _tense_ than usual?” she finally posed and looked back at the girls with raised eyebrows. They were all snuggled up on the common room couches together, preparing to watch whatever romantic comedy Mina was loading into the DVD player. At her question, the pink, fluffy-haired girl peered over the edge of the coffee table with a frown.

“He _does_ seem a little snippier than usual. He yelled at me this morning because I didn’t pour my cereal fast enough and was ‘hogging the box like a stupid extra,’” she pouted. Momo rubbed her chin thoughtfully, and her gaze shifted up to the ceiling as she pondered the notion.

“It’s only been four days since Kamino Ward… He _was_ kidnapped by the League of Villains and held hostage and witnessed All Might’s fight against All for One up close. Even for him, it must have been a very traumatic experience.”

“Yeah, ribbit, but he’s _Bakugo_ ,” Tsuyu sighed dejectedly. “He’s not the type to talk about his feelings or accept help dealing with them.” At her poignant statement, the troupe of girls collectively heaved weighty sighs. Ochako sipped once more at the tea, finding its spreading warmth more therapeutic now. She knew she should focus on girls’ night, because they started the weekly get-together specifically to create a safe space away from their problems, but she simply couldn’t help but worry about Katsuki. _Everyone is so convinced they’ll be rejected that he probably hasn’t even been offered help,_ she moped. _Deku hasn’t even made any gestures to help him feel better. He just says, “Kacchan is strong. He can manage.”_

But could he? All Might’s retirement had proved that even the strongest people had their breaking points. Katsuki could be suffering immensely, and they would never even know it because he was bottling it all up inside, and no one even attempted to twist the cap open to let out a little of the built-up pressure. _That’s it!_ Ochako decided and set down her cup of tea to pour a fresh one from the teapot. Kyoka raised a critical eyebrow at her as she stirred in a small amount of sugar.

“Uh… Ochako, what’re you doing? You have a full cup right there. Are you going all space-case on us again?” she teased with a playful smirk. It fell from her face when Ochako abruptly rose from the couch and began stepping over their legs.

“It’s not for me. I’m taking it to Bakugo.”

“Why are you even bothering, ‘Chako?” Tooru quipped. Ochako could tell by the way her llama-patterned pajamas bunched at her bust that she had crossed her invisible arms. “He’ll probably yell at you to go away!” Just as she had clambered over Momo’s legs, Ochako stopped and stared down at the bitter tea swirling in the rose-patterned teacup.

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly. She watched the swirling light patterns of the sloshing tea slowly settle with her lack of movement. “You’re probably right. But he may open the door and take it, too. If he does that, then I’ll know that I’ve helped, even if it’s just a fractional amount.” The group of girls fell into awed silence. She continued to stand there at the edge of the couch for a second, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she steeled her nerves. Bakugo would probably yell at her to go away and not even open up the door… but at the very least, she ought to try. That’s what friends were for, after all. Even if Bakugo didn’t consider them friends, she considered everyone in Class 1-A her friend, and friends always made an effort to be there when they were needed most- even if the recipient didn’t know they needed help in the first place.

“Wait, Ochako,” Momo interrupted when Ochako began walking again. Ochako looked over her shoulder to see that the black-haired girl had taken a saucer and was loading it up with the small tea cakes and tartlets that Tooru had bought from the supermarket. “Take these to him as well. I’m not sure if he has much of a sweet tooth, but at the very least, there should be something he likes,” she said with a smile and held out the pastry-laden saucer. Ochako adjusted her grip on the teacup before taking the small platter with a grateful smile.

“I’m sure he’ll love them! Feel free to start without me, guys. I’ve seen this one!” she chirped before whirling on her heel- not too fast, because she didn’t want the tea to spill and scald her hand. She carefully walked from the common room to the boys’ side of the dormitory, using the placards hanging on the doors to guide her to Bakugo’s room. She knew she had reached it when she stumbled upon a slightly crooked and bright red “Keep Out!” sign hanging on a door. Ochako kept Momo’s expensive teaware close to her body and kicked the door a few times with her foot since she couldn’t knock. “Bakugo! I brought you some tea and cake!”

“What the hell?” she heard him grunt from within. His voice sounded thick. He had announced that he was going to bed before stomping out of the common room, so it could be from sleep… But Ochako knew from overheard conversations that Katsuki fell asleep remarkably fast. It had only been about five or ten minutes since he had left; by all rights, he should be sleeping. Did that mean that Ochako’s instincts were right, and he was having difficulty sleeping because he couldn’t stop thinking about Kamino?

She jumped slightly at the harsh shriek of a chair scraping across the wood floor, then hissed as a few droplets of scalding tea landed on her hand and sizzled against the vulnerable skin of her fingers. Katsuki’s heavy footsteps echoed behind the door, but never seemed to grow any closer; he was muttering under his breath, too, words she couldn’t hear enough to comprehend. _Is he… pacing?_ “I’m fine!” he barked suddenly, making her violently wince once more. She clenched her teeth with a little whine as more small, circular burns appeared on her hand from the hot Oolong.

He said he was fine… But he _didn’t_ tell her to go away.

“Bakugo…” she murmured pityingly. Her eyebrows cinched a little, and she pouted determinedly before kicking the door with the toe of her slipper a few more times. “Momo worked _really_ hard to make this Oolong tea! I didn’t add a lot of sugar because I wasn’t sure if you would like it too sweet, but I brought cakes, too! So please open the door and _take them_.”

“Stop bangin’ on the door, Uraraka; you’re givin’ me a _headache_!”

“Caffeine is _great_ for headaches!”

“Shitty Round Face…!” Ochako grinned victoriously as his hefty footsteps finally thundered in the direction of the door. She kept the grin plastered on her- as Katsuki called it- round face, even as he flung the bedroom door open to glare scathingly at her. “I said that _I am **fine**_.” Her expression trembled a little at the unquestionable venom dripping from his voice, but she had come too far to yield to his defensive maneuvers. Wordlessly, she offered up the tea and cakes to him. His vermillion eyes bore seditiously into hers before slowly drifting down to the Oolong tea. His words were but a breath as he repeated, “ _I_. _Am_. **_Fine_**. I don’t want the stupid tea.”

“Bakugo, I-” Evidently, as she began to protest again, her grin finally wavered and was replaced by an expression that Katsuki absolutely _detested_.

“Can’t you take a fucking _hint_?! I don’t want your fucking _help_ , Uraraka, so stop looking at me with that fucking _pitying_ look on your face!” He roared and, on reflex, knocked her hand away.

Ochako screamed in agony as the piping hot tea splashed all over her forearm. The scalding heat dissolved her fragile skin with violent relish, and she wasn’t sure if the steam billowing over her arm was just from the heat rapidly dissipating or her skin cells evaporating. Katsuki’s red eyes went as huge as blood moons as she crouched down over the shattered teacup and splattered pastries. She held her trembling arm at the elbow, wailing shrilly at the burning pain dominating her senses. Tears streamed down her cheeks to puddle at her chin, then drip down onto her fluffy purple spaceship pajamas.

“I just-” she could barely choke out the words with the sobs heaving in her chest at the terrible stinging pain, “I just didn’t want you to suffer all _alone_.”

“Jesus, I- Uraraka, don’t just sit there, _here_ ,” Katsuki huffed and grabbed her by the elbow of her good arm. It took no effort for him to haul her to her feet and drag her into his bedroom. He kicked the door of his bathroom open and flipped on the light. He lugged her over to the sink to flip on the tap. Ochako quailed at the sight of the stream of cold water, knowing it was going to burn like Hell, and tried to tug away. “No,” Katsuki insisted, and his grip tightened around her arm, but only just enough to keep her in place. “No,” he repeated more softly. With a gentle movement so unlike him, he pulled her back to the sink and lifted her burned arm to the stream of water. “It’s gonna hurt,” he warned.

“I’m fine, Bakugo, really! It’s worse than it looks!” she attempted to dissuade him with fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

“No, Uraraka, you’re _not_ fine!” he barked savagely, and all the protests died in her throat as his voice cracked. While she was reeling, he jerked the burned section of her arm under the cold water. The sudden change in temperature along with the liquid streaming over the wounded flesh tore a shrieking wail from her throat. Soon it died into a few pitiful sniffles as the ice-cold water soothed the stinging flesh. “You’re not fine,” he repeated in a broken whisper. “ _You’re_ not fine, _I’m_ not fine, this whole situation is fucked up and so far from _fine_ , it ain’t even funny.”

Her red, puffy eyes found his. While her brown irises swam with awe and shock, his red ones burned with the most vicious self-loathing. He stared miserably at the disfigured skin of her forearm. “’S not fine,” he grumbled. “You were just tryin’ to make me feel better. Now look. I’ve gone and scarred you all up.” Ochako wanted to argue that it probably wouldn’t scar at all, but her tongue was unwilling to voice the fact. She went ahead and closed her mouth that was hanging open, since she clearly couldn’t use it. Katsuki’s face sagged woefully as he watched the last dregs of the dark tea swirl down the sink drain. “That’s all I can do, is fuck up and hurt people.”

“Bakugo, that’s not true.” This time, she was able to voice her opposition. He continued to gaze wretchedly at her arm, so she raised her good one to cup his cheek and force him to meet her eyes. He didn’t resist her. When those vermillion eyes met hers, she couldn’t help but whimper, because she had never seen him wear such a lost and devastated expression.

“I hurt you,” he insisted in a small voice. Ochako smiled forgivingly and caught the single tear that leaked out of the corner of his eye with her thumb. The fact that he was so passive right now, accepting her gestures and even deigning to shed a tear, meant that Ochako’s instincts had been correct. Katsuki was so overwhelmed by the incident at Kamino Ward that he was shouldering the blame entirely. In his mind, it was he and he alone who caused the downfall of the invincible, infallible, _indestructible_ All Might.

“It’s not your fault.” She only had to say it once before the dam broke. He let out a choking sob and put a tightly balled fist to his mouth, obviously trying to contain the roiling emotions inside him. She let out a soothing “hey” and stroked his cheek a little. “It’s okay. You can let it out. I won’t judge you. _It’s okay_.” It was the most distraught she had ever seen him- face flushed, eyes brimming with tears, teeth clenched, and breaths heaved in between little sobs. At her coaxing, he slowly dropped his hand from his mouth and let out a little choking snuffle, then hung his head.

“I was so fucking _useless_ , Uraraka.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” she said firmly. She reached up to put her hand on the back of his head, guiding his forehead to her shoulder. His hands came up to dig into her upper arms, like she was his lifeline, keeping him from sweeping out into an unforgiving and perilous sea. His body shuddered with an agonized groan, and she began to feel the shoulder of her pajama shirt dampening as the tears finally poured down. “It’s _not_ your fault,” she repeated while rubbing comforting circles into the muscles of his upper back, just above his shoulder blades. “All Might doesn’t blame _you_. We don’t blame _you_. Please _stop_ blaming yourself. Sometimes there are just things we cannot do alone, and it’s okay if you need help. But it’s _not_ your fault if that help doesn’t turn out the way you wanted it to.”

His grip on her arm tightened as he heaved another wracking sob. She rested her head against his as he sought ought more of her reassuring presence, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She closed her eyes as tears of her own began to prickle in the corners of her eyes. It was just so heartbreaking, seeing the ordinarily confident and proud Katsuki reduced to such a state. It was enough to bring even the stoutest, staunchest stone wall of a person to tears. Ochako was not made of stone at all, so the tears began to cascade. “ _It’s not your **fault**_.”

Finally, he nodded weakly. Ochako smiled as he began to wind himself down, inhaling and exhaling deeply to steady his breathing. With each deflation of his lungs, she could feel the tension working out of his muscles. Soon, he was breathing normally again, but he remained with his face buried into her neck and her small frame supporting his bulky one. “Bakugo-”

“Katsuki,” he interrupted quietly. Her face flushed pink. No one called him by his given name, not even Deku- just Kacchan, but that was a little different. “Call me Katsuki, and just… I need a little longer.” Ochako smiled sweetly and nodded. Her head still leaned against his, and his ash-blond hairs twisted a bit with her chestnut locks.

“You take as long as you need to. I’ll be right here.” She closed her eyes to relax, just allowing him to recover his mental state when he did something she would never have expected. His hands slipped from her upper arms to slowly slide to her lower back, and then he pulled her body against his in a small but firm hug. Ochako was so shocked at the intimate gesture that she just froze. She didn’t want him to think it was unwelcome, however, so she quickly gave him a squeeze of her own in response. Her cheeks reddened further when she felt him grin against the junction of her neck.

“Thank you... Ochako.” She hummed affirmingly, and he finally retreated, giving her a small smile. He then returned to serious, kinda-grumpy Katsuki, frowning at her burned arm and lifting it to inspect the injury. “Jeez… Can’t believe myself for this.”

“It’s okay!” she chirped brightly, and he gave her an inquisitive side-eye. “I don’t mind a scar. Scars are sexy, right?” He stared at her in utter disbelief for a second before bursting into a fit of incredulous laughter. Ochako started pouting, very unappreciative of his complete disregard for the sexiness of scars. “What?”

“You? _Sexy_? Come on.”

“Katsuki, that’s _mean_ ,” she frowned. She knew she wasn’t as sexy as Momo or Kyoka, but damn, did he have to go for the throat? His cheeks darkened, and he gave her a stern look.

“Dammit, that’s not-! I just mean-! Gah, I just meant that you’re cute, that’s all! Cute and sexy are two different things, but bein’ cute ain’t _bad_!” It was evident that he was saying these things well before actually realizing it, because after he finished babbling, he went as red as his vermillion eyes. Ochako stared at him with a gaping mouth.

“You think I’m… cute?”

“W-well, yeah,” he grunted nonchalantly, but the increasing hue of his face belied his words. “With those cheeks of yours, how can I not?” She squeaked in protest as he playfully pinched one of them emphatically. She swatted his hand away, protesting loudly but very much enjoying the compliment as betrayed by her blush. She was so focused on maintaining the unbothered act that he didn’t notice his face approaching her other cheek until he pressed a quick, chaste kiss to it. Her face immediately blazed with heat, like he had dumped some more hot Oolong right in it. He moved so that his face was hovering right in front of hers, their noses nearly touching. “Thanks for the help, cutie.”

It probably would’ve been the smoothest line ever if his face wasn’t the color of Tooru’s llama pajamas. Literally, it was the exact shade, a bright pink bubblegum color. Ochako got the image in her head of Katsuki dressed like a fluffy llama and immediately snorted piggishly in laughter. He reared back as she doubled over, giggling and holding her stomach. “The fuck you laughing at? I mean it!”

“No-! Ah, it’s just-! Ahahaha… You’re just so cute!”

“The hell? I ain’t _cute_! I fall under the category of _sexy_ , thank you very much! Damn Cheeks…” he grumbled. Still holding her arm aloft, he began rummaging through his medicine cabinet and procured a tub of burn cream and some bandages. They quibbled back and forth over his levels of cuteness and sexiness as he applied the thick white cream to the burn and then wrapped it up. She was so absorbed in trying to keep from breaking into hysterical snickers that she barely registered the little spikes of pain his ministrations caused. After he secured the loose end of the bandage with a fastener, he playfully shoved her in the head. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Cheeks.”

“Is that what you’re calling me now?”

“Damn right,” he confirmed haughtily with another pinch. She groaned as he yanked on the sensitive skin and slapped half-heartedly at him, making him grin widely. “Better get used to it, Cheeks.” She sniggered happily and looked down at her bandaged arm. He had been very gentle in nursing her injury, applying only the necessary amount of pressure, and hadn’t wrapped the dressings too tight. It made her smile warmly. “Oi. Space Case,” he huffed and knocked on her head with his knuckles.

“What?” she pouted. She shrilled as his face dove down to steal a little kiss from her. All she saw was his triumphant grin as he strolled out of the bathroom with his hands stuffed into his sweatpants pockets. “K-Katsuki…!”

“You make it too easy! Let’s go.”

“Wh-where?”

“You were so damn insistent on that tea, so I’m goin’ to get some.” She jumped when she heard the click of his doorknob.

“Ah! Wait for me!” she cried and rushed out of the bathroom. It wasn’t necessary, as he already stood in the threshold. He frowned at her with the faintest hint of a smile. As she hurried to his side, he roughly threw his arm around her shoulders and steered her into the hall. Her face steamed hot with embarrassment, but she snuggled into his form with a tiny smile. “… Are you gonna try the little cakes too?”

“Eh? I ain’t tryin’ no frou-frou girly-ass cakes.”

“But they’re good!”

“Just one! But you better pick wisely. I ain’t gonna forgive you if you give me something gross.”

“Hehe, don’t worry,” Ochako reassured him brightly. He grinned and hugged her a little tighter.

“Ochako?”

“Mhmm?”

“… Nuthin’.” He didn’t say it, but she knew he was thanking her again. She decided against embarrassing him by acknowledging that, and instead said, “Thanks for your help with the burn.” He raised an eyebrow at her, then looked away, faintly blushing.

“Anytime.”


	9. Waste the Night Away

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Hanta Sero, Ochako Uraraka

Additional Tags: Mermaid AU

“ _Needless to say, I keep her in check! She was a bad-bad, nevertheless-! Callin’ it quits,_ da dunna dun duh…” Hanta sang along to the music pumping in his headphones as he jaunted along the concrete sidewalk. He punctuated the words with very exaggerated motions, earning him quite a few concerned glances from passersby; not that he noticed, because he had his eyes closed as he skipped a few steps flapping his arms like a chicken. “ _Then you’re left in the dust-! Unless I stuck by yaaaaaaa! You’re a sunflowwwwwwer! I think your love would be too much!_ ” he yowled and spun around a light pole on the corner before hopping off and scooting a few more steps down the sloping sidewalk.

It was about seven o’clock in the evening, and Hanta was on his way home from a riotous day of videogames at Denki’s house. Hanta had proudly obliterated Denki, Katsuki, Eijirou, and surprise guest Fumikage at Super Smash Bros. Needless to say, he was still riding the victory high- so much so that he had elected to walk home rather than take the bus. The night was pleasantly chilly, just enough to stave off the heat from all his wild dancing, and a few of the stars were visible between the wispy gray clouds trawling over the inky expanse of the night sky. The evening was still young, so as he jitterbugged his way through town, he distantly wondered what he was going to do for the rest of it.

“ _I can hear you tellin’ me to turn around! Fightin’ for my trust, and you won’t back down!_ Da dunna dun duh, da dunna dun da…” he clumsily sang as he hopped over the curb to jaywalk across an empty street. He trotted down another incline, which led to his shortcut- a waterway that traveled the length of a series of highway overpasses. The watercourse siphoned excess water away from the city reservoir; it had rained a considerable amount lately, so the freshwater was lapping up at the edges of the levee. The splashing and gurgling of the water served as an accompaniment to his performance while he strolled along, occasionally stopping to kick his legs or punch the air energetically. “ _You’re the sunflowwwwwer! You’re the sunflower!_ ” he howled again, skipping to the edge of the levee and shaking his hips, before the song ended. He then wrenched his headphones off his ears to rest them around his neck and released a self-satisfied sigh, placing his hands on his hips and staring out at the canal.

Hanta always took a moment to appreciate the view when he came this way, if the water level was high enough. It was extraordinarily breathtaking when the stars were out. Light sparkled across the gently sloshing waves like millions of diamonds. Just above the concrete slopes of the other side of the levee, through a rusted chain-link fence, spread the expanse of the city; gold lights floated like orbs in the distance, emanating from streetlights and houses and businesses. If he squinted, he could make out the reds and green of traffic stops as well, or the flickering neon flashes of animated billboards. He could not hear the deafening noise pollution of civilization, though, aside from the humming of car engines bouncing down from the highway half a mile from where he stood. No, the sounds of nature reigned- the babbling of the water, the chirping of the crickets in the bunches of weeds springing up from the cracked sidewalk, the baying of stray hounds and the hooting of the barn owl that nested in the crooked old tree beyond the fence. He closed his eyes as he drank it all in. The bubbling. The chirping. The howling. The hooting. The little muffled whimpers for help-

_Wait a second._

Hanta’s eyes snapped open, and he strained his ears to make sure he had indeed heard what he thought he had. Sure enough, floating down the waterway from his right were small, stifled squeaks and sobs. _Someone needs help!_ He took off down the sidewalk, whipping out his phone to turn on the flashlight. A bright circle of white illuminated the stone construct before him, and he swung his phone side to side wildly to check every square inch of space.

“Hello? Who’s out here? Do you need help?” he called, cupping a hand to his mouth to increase the volume. The noises ceased for a moment, and he worried that he might have frightened them off. “Don’t be scared! I just wanna help you!” He remained still aside from his slightly ragged breaths, eyes searching the dark and ears straining the fresh night air for any sound, any at all.

“… Please help me.” The plea was meek, but close, close enough for him to tell it was a girl. A million deplorable scenarios flew through his mind at once, but he forbade himself to settle on any of them; instead, he focused on picking his way down the slick slope to where he thought the voice originated from. Suddenly, the disc of light from his phone’s flashlight puddled over a caramel-haired, brown-eyed girl with her body half in the water.

“What the shit?!” Hanta panted under his breath. He cried out as the sole of his sneaker slipped over the wet rock, and he sank into a split. He let out a shrill whine as his thigh and groin muscles strained way past the point they were naturally meant to. His feet scrabbled against the slimy, rocky levee wall until he managed to regain his footing again. Hugging the levee surface, he allowed gravity to slide him the rest of the way down the slope until the toes of his sneakers barely breached the rippling surface of the water. “Don’t worry, miss, I gotcha,” he reassured the frightened girl as she shied away from his sudden presence. He held his phone up so that the light illuminated her fully but also fell on him so she could see his kind smile. “We’re gonna get you back up just… just… fine…”

His words trailed off when he happened to look down at her lower half, which rested in the water. It was just instinctual. He hadn’t been sure what he had been expecting, given the situation; he could have discovered any number of sickening or unsavory things. What he discovered was not sickening or unsavory, but downright _befuddling_. Rather than human legs, the lower half of the girl’s body was in the form of a bubblegum pink, scaly fishtail, with thin, curving fins like a flying fish. Hanta stared incredulously at the appendage for a few seconds before he realized why the girl- _mermaid_ , rather- had been crying out for help. Wrapped around her tail were industrial-sized plastic rings. The hard edges were digging into the flesh, slicing right through the hard scales to cause blood and effluent to ooze out. The mermaid stared fearfully at him the entire time.

“Right! Uh, _knife_ , I need a knife,” he mumbled and began patting his pockets in search of his Swiss Army knife. One never knew when one needed a particular tool, so Hanta had always made a point to keep one on his person. He never dreamed he would be using it to cut some plastic off a mermaid, though.

“Ah-ha!” he grinned triumphantly when he finally tugged it out of his back pocket. He flashed a reassuring smile at the mermaid. “Don’t worry, Miss Mermaid. I’mma have you free in a jiffy.”

“Erm… Thank you,” she flushed shyly and dropped her gaze. Hanta then realized he would need two hands to cut her free, so he grinned bashfully at her.

“Er, would you mind, uh, holding this for me?” he asked with a shake of his smartphone. She stared curiously at the device and gave an unsure nod, reaching up with her small hands to take it. “Just keep that light pointed on your tail- Jesus Christ, she has a _tail_ \- uh, keep it pointed there so I can see.” Obediently, she turned the phone so that the flashlight kept her tail illuminated. Hanta bit down on his bottom lip as he hunched over the appendage to begin cutting the plastic loose.

Some areas were more accessible than others; in several places, the plastic was lodged half an inch down in the meat of her tail. He felt pangs of guilt every time the poor thing yelped with pain when he would dig his fingertip into the gaping wound to pry it out. She began to squirm around and sob pitifully, so he decided to try and distract her from the discomfort. “My name’s Hanta. Sero Hanta,” he informed her with a quick smile. “What about you? Do you have a name like humans?”

“In your language, it would be Ochako. Uraraka Ochako.”

“Cute name, cute name.” He winced when she whimpered again, for he was digging into a rather deep laceration to force out some clinging particles of the stretchy plastic. “How did you even _do_ this?” he muttered disparagingly. He glanced at her face to see her eyes tearing up and a self-pitying pout making her lips quiver.

“I just _swam_ into it like a big dummy… I freaked out trying to get it off, and next thing I knew, I was up in this channel. I got it all tangled with my fins, so it was getting hard to swim…” She used to her free hand to wipe at the tears glittering on her brown lashes. “I thought I was gonna be stuck here forever…”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it! Good thing I happened upon you, huh?” he interjected as she began to cry piteously. He probably shouldn’t have delved too much into the backstory. A bright idea struck him like a thunderbolt, and he wrenched off his headphones to stick them over her ears. “Here! Listen to this, and it won’t hurt as much,” he instructed her and tapped on his phone screen to restart the music. Her eyes went wider than the full moon above as the music began blasting in her ears. The tears ceased leaking down, and slowly, she began bobbing her head a little. Hanta beamed widely, pleased his clever plan worked, and resumed cutting at the plastic. He gave the mermaid an amused side-eye as she began humming along to the tune.

Once he had tossed the last bit of the plastic up onto the top of the levee, Ochako gave her tail an experimental flap. She flushed pink and slapped her hand to her mouth as she involuntarily splashed water all down his front and into his face. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, it’s just water,” he laughed mirthfully when she began to squeak apologies. “It’ll dry,” he purred and wrung out his shirt. The water gushed down onto the stone levee with spattering splashes. “Anyway, do you think you can swim now?”

“Yes, I do,” she agreed and lowered the headphones from her ears to glance gratefully down at her tail. Thin lacerations painted red cross-crossing lines in the bright pink flesh, but her fins now fluttered freely. He gawked in awe at the realization she could manipulate each one of them voluntarily. She noticed him staring and giggled. “Would you like to touch it?”

“Is that weird?”

“No. Go ahead,” she chuckled. Hanta immediately splayed his palms out over the fishy tail, dark eyes going wide. It wasn’t nearly as slimy as he thought it would be. The scales were a little soft and pliant, feeling like thin discs rolling under his skin. The membranes of her fins were so delicate-looking that he was scared to touch them, but when he did, pinching them between the pads of his forefinger and thumb, they felt like the sheerest lace.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured on reflex. He looked up to see Ochako blushing and bashfully holding a hand to her reddening cheek. Realizing just how embarrassing that was, he hastily retracted his hands and straightened up. “Anywa- _Ack_!” He had put too much force in the movement and essentially flung himself. He slipped down the rest of the levee to land with a splash in the water. The bank was only about two feet deep, so he could sit there on his rump in the water and grin shyly at the concerned mermaid. “Well, guess now we really don’t have to worry about you splashing me, huh?”

“No,” she agreed with a girlish giggle that made Hanta feel all dreamy-like. Sighing contentedly, he crawled back up onto the levee and reclined against the slope on his back, putting his hands behind his head and bending one knee. “Well, this isn’t how I expected to spend my Saturday night,” he chuckled.

“Me neither,” she laughed and stretched out on her belly beside him. She raised her tail, and as it caught the moonlight, the scales shimmered like thousands of pink opals. Water cascaded down from it like liquid crystal to plop in the water below. Hanta caught himself staring again and returned his attention to her face, finding her smiling warmly.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen a girl- _mermaid_ \- as pretty as you.”

“I’m the _only_ mermaid you’ve ever seen.”

“That automatically makes you the prettiest, though!” Ochako laughed loudly at his explanation. He found himself savoring her laugh. It rang out like bright bells, full of cheer and _goodness_. He rolled onto his side, resting a cheek in his hand. He ignored the way the rough stone scraped his elbow, because he just wanted to keep _looking_ at her. He knew he would probably never see her again, so he sought to get his fill. Ochako tilted her head to the side coyly.

“Hanta?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about the human world.”

So he did. He told her everything his spastic little brain could _think_ of- cars, trains, movie theaters, bubble tea, traffic stops, coffee, videogames, the little old lady next door with the Chihuahua he swore was the spawn of Satan. The amount of information that tumbled from his mouth was disgustingly overwhelming and mind-numbingly mundane. Still, Ochako hung onto every word with the most rapturous expression on her round face. Hanta found himself getting pointlessly excited about it all and was soon sitting straight up, gesturing wildly with his hands. Occasionally, Ochako would pipe up about a counterpart they possessed in the underwater realm, and they would gush about it for a few minutes. They didn’t notice the moon swiftly traveling across the sky, nor the golden lights of the city flickering out one by one. For that brief period, it seemed like time did not exist at all; that waterway was theirs and theirs alone. That little stretch of levee was a dimension beyond all responsibility and borders. They were perfectly content to waste the night away until the dawn came creeping in, flooding the world with its warm light.

The bubble burst when Hanta’s phone began to ring. He grimaced when he noticed it was his mother, and hurriedly picked up, because he’d _never_ hear the end of it if he rejected her call.

“Yeah. Yeah, Mom, I got caught up at Denki’s. I’m all right. I’ll be home soon. Bye.” Ochako was staring at the phone like it was its own life form when he hung up. She then frowned sadly.

“Does this mean you have to go?”

“Unfortunately so,” he sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck, then smiled sheepishly at her. “This might sound corny and all, but I’ll never forget you.”

“Why do you say that like you’ll never see me again?” she asked, looking hurt. He blinked stupidly at her and then flushed.

“Well… I mean… Isn’t it dangerous for you to swim up in the canal? You know, getting kidnapped by humans and sold off to a circus and all that?”

“Yeah, but I don’t care.” He reeled in her utter disregard for her safety. She gave him a roguish smile that was ridiculously cute on her round face. “I’ll come back tomorrow!” Hanta made a mental check of his plans to ensure that an excursion to the channel was indeed feasible before nodding excitedly.

“Yeah! But be careful,” he grimaced. She giggled coquettishly and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me.”

“Well, I _am_ a gentleman,” he huffed, puffing out his chest and closing his eyes with a self-possessed smirk. Ochako took advantage of his lapse in security, and the next thing he knew, she had her lips pressed up against his cheek. All his mental processes screeched to a jarring halt, and he just gawked open-mouthed at her with a brainless “Uhhhhhh…” rumbling in his throat. Ochako giggled at his bashful response and shot him another flirty smile.

“See you around. And thanks again!” Before he could think of anything intelligent to say, she dove off the levee into the water. He tried to scramble to his feet. He only succeeded in tumbling back into the water again, this time with his phone in his pocket. His headphones just barely avoided suffering water damage, and he wrenched his phone out of his pocket to hold it aloft, praying that it was true that it was waterproof. He just barely caught a glimpse of Ochako’s bright pink tail swaying underneath the surface of the glittering black water before it faded into the shadows.

“See ya,” he called softly. Though it was impossible, he still fancied that she heard him.

Groaning, he climbed back up the slope of the levee to the flat sidewalk. He shook himself out like a shaggy dog and wrung as much as the water as he could from his clothes, then placed the headphones snugly over his ears. His phone was thankfully working just fine. He started his music back up and began swaying to the beat a little, then took off in a jog down the path leading home.

 _“Even if we gotta risk it all right now, oh-! I know you're scared of the unknown!  
You don't wanna be alone! _Da da dun dunna dun dun dun… _You’re my sunflowwwwer_ …”

When his mother inquired what the big smile on his face was for, he merely replied that his Saturday night hadn’t been a wasted one.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to “Sunflower.” The song belongs to Post Malone.


	10. Mama Mina

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Denki Kaminari, Mina Ashido

Denki’s lips were drawn up in a cheerless pout as he lay sideways on his bed, repeatedly bouncing a ball against his opposite wall. With languid, practiced motions that were more muscle memory than actual attentive efforts, he flicked his wrist to lob the ball at the same spot on the wall he had been for the last hour. He watched with dull lidded eyes as the squishy rubber toy sailed across the width of the bedroom, struck the smooth painted surface, dove down at a forty-five-degree angle to bounce once on the polished wooden floor strewn with dirty socks and worn tee-shirts, then returned to his waiting hand. _Shwip. Thunk. Thwock. Slap_. The sounds echoed, just as depressing and lifeless as the ambiance.

“Stupid,” he muttered aloud as he hurled the ball across the room once more. “Absolutely useless. What’re you even here for, Denki?” The ball slammed into the wall as he subconsciously applied more force to the throw; in turn, its arc changed dramatically and crashed into his face instead of his hand. The ball ricocheted off his nose to collide with his desk lamp, causing it to spin wildly around and knock into the plastic cup holding his writing utensils. He cursed as he rolled onto his back with both his hands tenderly holding his bruised face, trying to ignore the added insult of his pencils and pens sliding over the desk and clattering to the floor. In the background of that and his groans, he could hear the rubber ball bouncing and then rolling over the wood to come to rest somewhere under his bed. “Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!”

Denki usually tried to stay positive. He really did. That was his thing, after all, being the plucky optimist. He had drained his supply of sanguinity, however; the cistern was as dry as a desert, not a drop of confidence to be found. How _could_ he be self-assured, after making an absolute fool of himself in the third round of the Sports Festival? It had taken literal _seconds_ for Ibara Shiozaki to obliterate him in their one-on-one battle. Denki had never suffered such a grievous insult in his life. Of course, it wasn’t her fault. It was all _his_ stupid fault.

He pushed the balls of his palms into his eyes, trying to force the tears that were brimming there from leaking out. He failed miserably at that as well. The salty liquid rolled down his flushing cheeks to bead on his chin, then drip down and absorb into the collar of his tee-shirt.

“Ungh… Goddammit,” he sniffed and rolled onto his belly to shove his face into his pillow. In the back of his mind, he thought suffocating himself was preferable to the uncomfortable twisting in his gut and the stinging in his eyes. Unfortunately, the fabric of his pillow was much too breathable. _The world is against me._ Without removing his face from the cushiony construct, he slipped halfway off the bed to grope blindly around for the rubber ball. Continuously chunking it relieved some of his nervous energy, at least.

He stopped when someone knocked loudly and insistently on his bedroom door.

“Denki!” Mina’s high-pitched voice was still loud even bleeding through the wood. She rattled the doorknob experimentally to find it locked. “Denki, lemme in! Let’s talk.” _What the hell is she doing here?!_ “Me and Eiji and Hanta are all here to hang out. Your mom called us!” _Of course she did…_ he thought sourly. “Hanta’s setting his PlayStation up downstairs! Come on! Let’s go play!”

He removed his face from the plush pillow to shout, “Dun wanna!” He scowled when the pink-skinned girl jiggled the metal knob again, more persistently this time.

“Denki, come on, you’ve been moping in here all day. It doesn’t do any good to sulk like this! Come onnnn! Let’s talk it out!” Denki snorted derisively and threw himself on his side, facing the wall and pouting childishly. If he were in a healthy state of mind, he might appreciate her kind gesture; however, incensed as he was, he could only be petulantly exasperated by her insistence. She continued to bleat invitational prattle before his doorway, and he decided not to waste the energy on responding. _If I ignore her, she’ll go away._ “Denki. Denki. Denki.” She began relentlessly chanting his name and punctuating each shout with a rattle of the knob. Grumbling unflattering words under his breath, he wrapped the pillow around his ears. The breathable fabric didn’t muffle nearly as much sound as he wished. “ _Denki. Denki. Denki. **Denki**. **Denki**. **Denki**_.” He curled up so that his knees touched his chest.

 _Go away,_ he snarled in his mind. _I don’t want to talk about how stupid I am. **Leave me alone**!_

“Denki, you can’t ignore me forever! _DenkiDenkiDenkiDenkiDenki **Den** -_”

“ _Fuck_! Okay, I’m coming, just cut it _out_! Sheesh,” he yelled and threw himself off the bed. Somehow the angry motion was coordinated, and he landed on the flats of his bare feet. His stomps were purposeful and thundering as he stalked open to the door to unlock it and throw it open. “What?” he hissed at the smiling, bubbly girl, chest heaving and cheeks flushed with misdirected self-loathing.

“Denki, are you sad?”

“No! I’m not _sad_! Now, will you leave me alone?!” he huffed and went to shut the door in her face. In his heart of hearts, he knew that wasn’t right, but Goddammit, the last thing he wanted to do was _talk_ about it. Sometimes a man just needed to brood in peace. Her pink hand flew up to slam against the wood, demonstrating surprising strength as it stopped it in its tracks.

“I think you’re lying.”

“So what if I am?!” Instantaneously, his cheeks flushed a rose color. _Dammit, that isn’t what I wanted to say!_ Her face deadly serious and those black-and-gold eyes boring into the quivering depths of his soul, Mina leaned into the doorway. Denki gulped and subconsciously leaned back in the face of such unwavering resolve.

“I’m coming in,” she asserted simply. Denki deflated with a whine and trudged away from the door to throw himself face-down back on the bed. His groan of acknowledgment was muffled by that annoyingly breathable fabric of his pillow. He heard the soft scrapes of her socks over his floor. They were followed by the gentle click of the door behind her. Denki hugged his pillow as he moped over how rapidly the situation spiraled out of control; it was just par for the course for him, he supposed. Silly, stupid Denki with no spine-

“Denki. You know that none of us think any less of you for what happened at the Sports Festival, right?” He visibly cringed as she heartlessly jabbed at the core of his depression. Snorting, he rolled on his side such that his back was to her. Morosely, he curled his thin body around the pillow.

“Yeah, _right_. You guys probably thought it was hilarious. She wiped the floor with me.” His bottom lip wobbled pitifully just talking about it. It had been so _humiliating_. Finally, he thought he had his chance to show that he wasn’t just the dumb guy that fried his brain and mumbled “Yayyyyy,” but he had blown it in the most mortifying way. Kyoka was probably sniggering into her hand while she gossiped about him to Momo-

“Well, Hanta-”

“He was up against _Todoroki_ , and he even got a good shot in,” he countered matter-of-factly. Angrily, he squeezed the plush body of the pillow but had not the raw strength to tear it to little shreds of fabric and cotton like he wanted to. “Stop lyin’ to me. You can say it. I’m useless and stu-”

“You are _not_ stupid!” He jumped violently as her voice cracked like a whip in the relatively quiet bedroom. He yelped like a wounded dog when she wrenched him onto his back by the shoulder. Like it was a shield, he kept the pillow hugged to his body and stared owlishly up at the fuming girl. Her pink lips pressed into a thin line, and her fingers clenched into her hips. “So what if you’re not Bakugo or Todoroki or even Midoriya? You still earned your way into this hero course!” she scolded him. He just vehemently nodded along. Frankly, he was a little terrified she would whap him upside his head if he continued with the self-pity. Her face softened slightly, and she bent over him to ruffle his blonde-and-black hair affectionately. “You have your own merits, and believe it or not, we all know them. You’re loyal and care a lot about your friends.” She smiled brightly down at him as he blushed shyly. “Sure, it didn’t work out this time, but you’ve still got so much time to prove what you’re made of. Stop saying you’re stupid or useless, because you’re _not_. None of us think that.”

“Really?” he asked her with big, round eyes, and she nodded firmly.

“Pinky-swear!” she grinned and held up her pinky finger emphatically. “Not even Kyoka,” she added with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, which made him gulp and flush further. Still hugging the pillow but not as tightly, he sat up from the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. He had to admit, even though she had just basically reprimanded him like a stern mother, he felt loads better. He smiled warmly when she grabbed his hand and looped her pinky with his.

“Thanks, Mina.”

“No problem!” He chuckled, and she stepped away when he slung his legs around to hop of the bed. She stood on her tip-toes to muss up his already wild hair again. “Now get yourself dressed and come get some breakfast. Your mom said you haven’t eaten anything.”

“Mina, it’s like… two in the afternoon.”

“Brunch, then! Regardless, food! You need sustenance!” she insisted and jabbed him in his belly with her index fingers a few times. He squirmed at the tickling prods and skittered away from her to his closet.

“Yes, _Mom_!” he snorted, finally dropping the pillow to begin rifling through the closet for a suitable tee shirt. Mina hummed contentedly and strolled to the door, kicking aside a few of his discarded socks and underwear towards his dirty clothes hamper.

“Yup, that’s me. Mama Mina! If you’re not downstairs in five minutes, I’m coming back up to drag you by the ear,” she warned as she stepped out of the door.

“I’m coming! Promise!” he laughed, and she flashed him a teasing wink before shutting the door behind her. Amused, he stared at the wooden entryway for a few seconds, just smiling admiringly. “ _Mama Mina_ ,” he huffed under his breath and shook his head before wrenching his shirt off and tossing it across the room into the hamper. The smile never fell from his face the entire time he was getting ready.

It just felt really nice to know he had someone looking after him.

“All right! Time to kick some ass, Denki Kaminari!” he told himself with a devilish smile. He cracked his knuckles and his neck, then did a couple pre-game stretches. He then all but bolted out of his bedroom and down the stairs. His friends greeted him with a chorus of “hello’s.” He snatched up a bag of Doritos from the kitchen counter and vaulted over the back of the couch, snatching up a controller and sticking out his tongue confidently.

“’Sup, guys? Ready to looooose?”

“As if!” Hanta cried and shoved him in the side of the head. “You’re the one who’s going down!”

“How do I play this game, Mina?” Eijirou frowned at the flickering screen.

“Just shoot the zombies, Eiji.”

“Shoot the zombies,” the redhead repeated unsurely under his breath and squinted at the television. Denki shoved a handful of nacho chips in his mouth and rolled onto his belly, legs still slung over the back of the couch, before holding the bag out to Mina. She took it graciously and patted him on the top of his head, making him smile widely.

_I have really, **really** good friends. _


	11. Publicity Stunts

Category: General Fluff

Characters: Rumi Usagiyama

Requested By: anubislover (Tumblr)

Rumi’s lips were slightly pursed as she peered out of the small window of the helicopter. Below the sleek black accents, the blue waves of Japan’s Inland Sea sloshed and splashed, throwing up bubbly white seafoam in impressive arcs. Her red eyes slowly rolled in her sockets to spy the small silhouette of the lone island nestled within the bay. The morning sun framed its lumpy shape in black; the only contrast lay in its white beaches, which ringed the landmark like a curling ribbon. The sound-canceling headphones secured over her fluffy ears protected Rumi’s sensitive eardrums from the helicopter’s persistent buffeting chops as it spirited her onward to Okunoshima- better known as “Rabbit Island.”

Rumi was traveling to the historical park-slash-island as a public relations campaign her agency dreamed up. “You’re the Rabbit Hero!” her manager had squawked optimistically. “The public would _adore_ you socializing with all these bunnies!” The corner of Rumi’s mouth twitched from just recalling the mortifying proposal. Rumi didn’t hate her animal namesake, naturally, and knew that public relations campaigns were the lifeblood of sponsorships and popularity polls… but did she really have to gallivant off to a spit of land off the coast and cozy up to some feral rabbits for six hours? _There are so many more useful things I could be doing,_ she moped.

The subtle shift in air pressure indicated to her that the helicopter was landing. She straightened up in her seat and compulsively combed her fingers through her long, alabaster hair. The public arrived at Okunoshima via ferry, but Rumi was a VIP if there ever was one, hence her arrival by air; however, the island was not equipped with any sort of landing pad. Instead, the helicopter descended upon a flat stretch of clearing. The grass blades whipped wildly about as they were battered by the relentless air currents sweeping down from the helicopter’s swirling blades. The small-bodied aircraft shuddered as it finally made contact with the earth. Rumi kept the noise-canceling headphones over her tall ears until the engine’s whine dwindled to a small, whimpering keen. As she was wrenching them off her head and tossing them onto the floor, the island caretaker trotted up to the aircraft.

“Did you have a pleasant flight, Miss Mirko?” He asked politely as the lithe, tanned hero climbed out of the helicopter and hopped down onto the grass. Tsking, she clawed the steel-toes of her hero suit into the dirt, digging up clumps of damp earth and dry grass.

“Indeed,” she remarked but only because courtesy was customary. “Although I would prefer to leave the flying to Hawks,” she added with a cheesy sneer. She was only teasing, but the man still tugged at his tie and sputtered something about changing arrangements. “It’s not necessary,” she shrugged with a wave of her gloved hand. “Let’s just get this thing started already.”

“But of course!” the nervous academic simpered and because barking at his numerous assistants and employees to finish the preparations for Rumi’s photoshoot. The hero scowled when her manager quipped at her to exercise proper decorum. _All this red tape and two-faced bullshit. Blegh,_ she thought sourly. While the men and women busied themselves by setting up cameras and props, Rumi wandered to the edge of the clearing.

The helicopter’s droning chopping blades and whirring engine had doubtlessly frightened the island’s residents. Now that the machine sat silent upon the grass, curiosity was beginning to get the better of them. Rumi’s eyebrow crept up a few centimeters as a fat, furry golden rabbit hopped out of some brambles upon her coming. Its nose twitched, and its little jaws were chomping some grass blades into a paste. _They live up to their tame reputation,_ she thought in amusement as she strolled right up to the bunny and patted its round haunches. Though she had gloves, she could tell that the creature’s fur was silky and smooth. The tourism kept the rabbits in excellent health, it seemed.

“Mirko, em, Miss Mir-”

“Just ‘Mirko’ is fine,” she informed the island director as he came trundling to the edge of the clearing. It had a slight decline, and he seemed to be having a rough time of maneuvering through the slick grass in his fancy dress shoes. _He probably sits in an air-conditioned office all day. He looks so out of his element it’s not even funny,_ she thought in mild disdain and straightened up. The man yelped when the smooth soles of his dress shoes slipped over the grass, causing him to fall and slide down the small hill. Rumi couldn’t help but smile when he stumbled up, and his sophisticated beige dress pants sported a streak of fresh green down the left side. He nervously adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.

“Mis- I mean, Mirko, all the preparations are complete.”

Mirko hiked up the hill with ease, with the sweating academic huffing and puffing behind her. The clearing had been transformed from a blank, empty canvas in a matter of minutes. A camera crew was bustling between three different cameras, adjusting lenses and arranging white umbrella-like structures to reflect the flash in a way that would flatter Rumi most. A picnic table was situated amongst a patch of white dandelions growing not far from the helicopter. Several tin buckets of carrots were scattered here and there, likely bribing tools for the island’s furry natives. Rumi sauntered up to pluck one of the orange root vegetables out of the bucket and chomp down on it with powerful jaws. A meek young assistant girl gawked wide-eyed at her as she devoured the carrot in seconds but seemed to have more sense than to question the Number-Five Hero.

“All right,” Rumi hummed and clapped her hands together. The leather of her gloves made the _smack_ even more resounding. “Photograph me with some of these wild rabbits so I can get back to work.” Her manager whined miserably and tipped back her head at Rumi’s show of disdain, but Rumi didn’t care. _I’m a hero, not a model,_ she grumped. _This entire photo operation will get one run in a magazine and be forgotten in two weeks._

Rumi glanced down at something brushed against her navy-blue tights. A chunky spotted rabbit was nosing her calf, seemingly demanding pets. Smirking slightly, Rumi leaned over to grab the fuzzy creature and nuzzle him against her bosom. _Well, at least all my other models are super cute,_ she smiled and gave the bunny some well-deserved scratches behind his floppy ears. The photographer called for Rumi to approach, so she did, still holding the contented bunny rabbit.

“Quite remarkable how tame they are,” the photographer grinned under the brim of his baseball cap and patted the spotted rabbit’s flank. Several other bunnies were bounding through the grass-and-flower field toward her, obviously jealous. Chittering impatiently, they butted their furry heads against her solid calves and bounded circles around her steel-toed feet. “They rather like you.”

“Surprising,” she remarked smugly with a twitch of her furry white ears.

~~~~~~~~~~

The photographer situated her at the picnic table first. They piled several of the big rabbits on its wooden surface, with Rumi leaning her cheek in her hand and smiling while hand-feeding them carrots. It actually wasn’t that difficult a pose to maintain, as Rumi found treating the rabbits quite entertaining. Their little jaws worked tirelessly at the crunchy orange root and sprigs of green leaves while their long ears constantly swiveled, searching the airwaves for any signs of danger. Their beady black eyes glittered in the sunlight; beady indeed but glimmering with an individual intelligence and charm that made Rumi smile happily. She removed one of her white leather gloves to stroke the length of one’s back, admiring the impeccable softness of its fur. By the time the photographer announced that they would be moving on to the next phase of the photoshoot, she was rather enjoying herself.

They got a few candid shots of Rumi strolling about through the tall grasses with the curious bunnies hopping along behind her. After a few minutes, she elected to have a fair bit of fun and crouched down to begin jumping along with her powerful legs. The rabbits sprinted after her, then playfully ran circles around her squatting body when she paused. The smile on her face was beaming as she hopped around the clearing with the bunnies. Twenty of them had meandered onto the photoshoot set, nearly all of them dashing along with the laughing Rumi.

“Ahaha! You guys sure are a lot of fun!” she crowed as she rolled onto her back, holding one of the fluffy bunnies aloft. Two more of them clambered up onto her belly, thumping against the toned flesh with powerful paws, while another climbed up her inclined legs to perch on her knees. Another still nested in her voluminous white hair and began chewing on the thin strands, thinking it nourishment. “Hey, cut that out,” she snickered and shoved it in the rump. It twitched its cottony, ball-shaped tail but obediently spat out her long locks. She heard the shutter of the camera snapping frantically and sat up, the rabbits slouching off her like they were boneless sacks of meat.

“I am so relieved you are enjoying our island’s residents!” the director sighed. He was sweating less now, though his earlier fit was evidenced by the damp patches in the armpits of his blue dress shirt. The green grass stripe still glared starkly in his pressed pants, and his tie was crumpled from how relentlessly he had been fidgeting with it.

“Yes, indeed,” she smiled while holding up one of the fluffy denizens. “I was unsure about it at first, but these little guys are quite adorable.” The camera flashed a few more times as Rumi brought the rabbit to her face to nuzzle her cheeks against the top of its head.

“This article is going to make headlines!” her manager cooed with happiness beside the reporter, who was scribbling notes on his notepad. Honestly, Rumi could care less about the publicity or her ratings. She flopped back into the fresh green grasses, and the bunnies immediately congregated around her, nuzzling into every spare inch of space they could find. Their warm bodies insulated Rumi, spreading cozy head from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes; her eyes drifted shut at the contenting heat. She giggled as one of the bunnies nosed her face, and its whiskers tickled her soft skin.

 _There are more useful things I could be doing,_ she thought as her mind descended into the twilight of half-sleep, _but I suppose a hero could use a break every once and a while._ She supposed she could have netted herself a more annoying public relations campaign than falling asleep beneath the summer sun blanketed by cute little bunnies, after all.

She would have appreciated it if they hadn’t used that image as the front cover for _Heroes Magazine_ , however.

Rumi glared thunderously at Hawks as he sat across from her at the café table. He was doubled over in the wrought-iron chair cackling so hysterically that the other patrons were glancing over in concern. Rumi’s tall white ears repeatedly twitched in annoyance at the high pitch of his snickers. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly sat up, a hand over his mouth to smother the lingering giggles leaking out.

“Are you _finished_ , Hawks?”

“I’m sorry,” the red-winged hero whimpered with another fervid glance at the damning photograph plastered on the cover of the magazine. “It’s just- It makes you look so _innocent_ and _sweet_!” he howled and threw himself back in the chair. As he flung his bulk, the chair tipped backward on two legs. “Oh no!” he yelped and pinwheeled his arms to rebalance himself. The iron furniture seemed to hang in the air for a moment before falling backward, gaining momentum before striking the concrete with a resounding clang. Rumi smirked, fancying karma had struck the bird-brain quite justly. “I suppose I deserved that,” he huffed while pulling himself up using the edge of the glass-topped café table.

“I agree with you, actually,” she huffed and daintily sipped at her latte. “That photograph is _horrible_ for my reputation. I can’t have all my young fans thinking I’m some delicate _princess_.” Hawks grinned at her as he righted his chair and plunked down, more cautiously this time. He laced his fingers and tucked him under his chin, and his shining eyes gleamed behind his golden visor.

“True, I suppose. Although- and _don’t_ hit me for this- I think it’s also quite a flattering image of you.” Rumi’s cheeks flushed hot and red, and she thumped his shin under the table with the flat of her foot. He whined miserably and clutched at his assaulted leg. “I _said_ , don’t hit me!”

“I didn’t. I _kicked_ you.”

“That’s even worse! You could crush watermelons with your thighs, y’know, so I’m sure one of your kicks could crush _bones_!” he whined, rubbing tenderly at the likely bruised flesh. Rumi smirked, momentarily fantasizing what crushing a watermelon on live television would do for her image. Her red eyes fell back to the magazine, where she lay amongst the flowers and snoozing bunnies. Her white hair cascaded around her, running like rivers of milk between her tanned limbs and the bunnies’ multicolored fur. Her lips were slightly parted, and her head tilted to the side, making the golden sunlight spill over her dark skin and make it glow a rich bronze. Her eyes were slightly scrunched up. She really did look innocent and content… and dare she say, beautiful. Her cheeks hazed again, and she looked at Hawks to find him grinning seductively.

She kicked him in the other shin, and he wailed miserably. She stood from the table, draining the dregs of her latte as he pitifully peered up at her. “Mirko, whyyy?”

“Because you’re a hundred years too early to try and flirt with me, feathers,” she huffed. The ceramic mug clinked against the saucer as she set it down. Grinning, Rumi flashed him a wink. “But I might forgive you if you buy my coffee. Ciaoooo~!” Using her thick legs, she sprinted away, leaving Hawks cursing yet impressed in the dust. Her laughter floated back to him on the wind.

Needless to say, that photoshoot worked wonders for her popularity, in all sorts of ways…


	12. In My Arms

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Characters: Shoto Todoroki, Momo Yaoyorozu

Requested by: anubislover (Tumblr)

The microwave had been beeping for several seconds, indicating that her glasses of milk were thoroughly warmed. Unfortunately, Momo was too busy staring blankly at the device’s black shiny surface to realize. She heaved a heavy sigh for perhaps the twentieth time that day, and in her discolored reflection in the shielded window’s surface, her lashes fluttered in a languid blink. _Shoto…_

The boy had been on her mind all night, and not in a pleasant way. The image of him falling to his knees, sweat pouring down his face and hands clasped in a prayer of thanks to whatever deity had spared his father’s life, was simply too visceral an image to ignore. After the news program had wrapped up the coverage of Endeavor’s battle with the Nomu, Shoto had retired to his room despite the fact it was early in the afternoon. The time was inching closer to 9 p.m., and the boy had not ventured out of his bedroom, not even when Mina called everyone for dinner. _Surely he must be at least a little hungry,_ Momo pouted worriedly. It was then that she finally realized her milk had finished microwaving, and she opened the appliance. Two glasses of milk for hot chocolate- one for herself and one for Shoto. If he would accept it, that is.

Momo removed the jar of homemade hot cocoa powder from the cabinet then stirred generous spoonfuls into each of the ceramic mugs, followed by a spritz of vanilla extract for a homey, calming flavor. Just inhaling the fresh scent eased her nerves a little- but _only_ a little. Careful not to burn her fingers, Momo carefully gripped the handles of the mugs and walked out of the kitchen to slowly ascend the stairs. Her lips remained drawn into a firm frown, and her anxiety mounted with every step she took.

 _What if he doesn’t appreciate my gesture of kindness? Oh, I don’t want him to find me insensitive or annoying,_ she fretted as she rounded the landing. It was a good thing she could operate from muscle memory, for her mind was whirling. _What if it’s too hot and it scalds him?_ At that worrying thought, she compulsively blew on both mugs a few times to cool the surface layer of thick, creamy liquid. _Or what if it’s not hot enough?_ Momo doubted it, from the thin white wisps of steam curling above her fingers, but it wasn’t like her mind was willing to listen to reason. She even debated scurrying back down the steps to pop them in the microwave for another thirty seconds or so; she didn’t, but only because she had arrived at Shoto’s room. She inhaled sharply to steel her nerves before knocking on the door with one of her sock-covered feet. 

“Shoto? I brought you some hot chocolate. I thought you might like some,” she called buoyantly. There was no sound for a few seconds, so she wondered if he had fallen asleep. “Shoto?” she repeated, though more softly just in case he actually was slumbering. This time, she distinctly heard the creaking of bedsprings. _Oh no! I did wake him up!_ she panicked. If her hands were not occupied with the two mugs, she probably would’ve started chewing on her nails. She fidgeted, unsure what she should do to amend her rudeness, and Shoto cracked the door open. She fell still as his heterochromatic eyes regarded the steaming mug of hot cocoa uninterestedly. Well, to Momo, he seemed indifferent, but who could tell with his usually aloof demeanor? She gulped loudly before pushing it towards him. “… It’s warm. I just made it.” Her voice was soft, like she was coaxing a stray dog to accept her affections. That’s certainly what it felt like with the way Shoto ever-so-slightly backed away from her extended arm. He did not retreat fully, however. After a few tense seconds, he took the cup from her. An electric jolt traveled up Momo’s arm as his fingertips brushed against hers.

“Thank you.” His eyes flickered up to meet hers, and Momo wanted to start crying then and there with how miserable he appeared. Dark circles ringed his grey-and-blue eyes, and his entire face sagged with weariness. His bi-colored hair was disheveled and sticking up in odd places, like he had been tossing and turning in a fever fit. Shoto must have thought she was waiting for him to try it with how she stood there, studying him in mounting concern, so he brought the mug to his lips and sipped. His gaze never left hers. “It’s good,” he offered cajolingly.

“O-oh,” she stammered, because replying was the right thing to do, her sparking brain recalled. “Thank you. I suppose… I shall be going.” Momo hesitated to finish the statement because she did not want to leave, not with how _terrible_ Shoto looked. Social decorum dictated, however, that she be respectful of his boundaries- no matter how badly she wanted to comfort him.

As she turned on her heel, his other hand darted out to catch her elbow in a light and almost fearful touch. Momo felt that crackling electricity shoot up her limb again, this time coursing into the muscles of her neck and making them spasm. Momo obediently halted, glancing down at the hand delicately gripping her arm and then up at him. He was looking away from her now, frowning frustratedly and blushing with slight embarrassment.

“Momo, I… Please stay with me.”

She could not help but release a startled squeak. Blood rushed to her face, dying it the hue of rose tea. Despite her mortification at the blunt request, Momo had no intention of refusing. Shoto was staring at her so pleadingly, so brokenly, that it was liable to break her heart. His fingers tensed around her elbow in silent begging. _Please,_ his eyes implored, _I don’t want to be alone._

“Of course I will.” Her face relaxed into a soft smile, and she reached around to brush his knuckles gently. His hand slipped from her arm only to entreatingly grasp her fingers. His intense gaze remained on her face as he stepped back into his bedroom. His fingers curled around hers, and he tugged on her arm to guide her through the doorway. Momo allowed him to puppeteer her body as he wished. She sucked in a small breath when he leaned in to shut the door. His chest bumped against hers, making her flush. He must have seen the redness blooming over her cheeks because he retreated quickly and muttered, “Sorry.”

He gasped the ceramic mug in both hands and seated himself on the edge of the bed. Momo stood awkwardly in the center of the room for a moment, unsure how exactly to go about comforting the reserved boy. After a few moments of consideration, she eased herself down onto the mattress beside him, with a good nine inches of space for comforting closeness that did not override respectable boundaries. “Shoto,” she frowned as he sipped wordlessly at the chocolate beverage. “Are you all right?”

“I’m just confused; that’s all,” he responded honestly. Momo breathed a small sigh of relief; at least he was forthcoming. She wasn’t sure if she had the willpower to pry his troubles out of him. His two-colored gaze flickered to her before fixating on the creamy brown mixture below. “I’ve always despised my father for the awful things he did to the rest of my family and me. Yet, watching him fight for his life on that screen today… The only thing I kept thinking was ‘Please don’t die.’”

Momo tutted understandingly and reached up to tuck a loose chunk of his white hair behind his ear, because that felt like the right thing to do. Shoto didn’t flinch or reprimand her, and even leaned a little into her caress, making her knuckles bump against his cheekbone. His gaze was bitter and ashamed as he watched small bubbles pop one by one on the hot chocolate’s surface. “I almost feel like I’ve betrayed my brothers, sister, and mother by not wishing him dead.”

“ _Shoto_ ,” she breathed and pressed a little closer to him and went to rest a hand on his knee. She faltered though, leaving her hand hanging in midair, because she was afraid that she was crossing a line. He looked down at her hand, and then he shifted his leg to seek her comforting touch, making their knees bump. Following the silent cue, she placed her hand on his leg and another on his upper back, rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades. “Even with all the things your father has done, it is _not_ shameful of you to pray for his life. You are a kind and wonderful person who’s aspiring to be a hero. Frankly, I would be more worried if you _had_ wished him dead.”

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile, and he peered at her out of his periphery. She smiled kindly and lifted her hand to stroke once over his hair. Her heart fluttered as he rolled his head a little to press against her palm. His eyes were like a blizzard and a storm, pulsing with energy as he regarded her. “There is no right or wrong way to respond to the trauma you’ve suffered,” she explained softly, “and however you respond to it is valid. You can forgive him, or you can’t. You can recognize his attempts to change, or you can’t. You have the right to heal and process how you wish.”

“Thanks, Yaoyorozu.” His voice cracked with the small utterance, and even with how downcast his head was, she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought back the tears. Momo gently clucked her tongue and eliminated the few inches of space left between them, hugging him into her side and pulled his head onto her shoulder. He willingly sought out her embrace, burying his face into her neck. His hot breath and his cold tears tingled her nerves, but she ignored the peculiar sensation, focusing her energy into soothingly stroking his two-toned hair.

“Of course. I’m here for you anytime, Shoto. There’s no shame in asking for help either, you know.” His entire body was trembling with barely-suppressed sobs, so he only nodded weakly in response. The hot chocolate writhing in the mug as his hand wracked with tremors, so Momo gently took it and set it on the bed behind her alongside her cup before wrapping both her arms around him in a firm hug. His hands pawed into her woolen sweater as he finally broke, releasing a choking sob. “It’s okay,” she shushed him as he groaned in frustrated agony. “I don’t judge you. We all need to cry sometimes.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his. “You take as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Shoto choked out deep, agonized sobs now and then, but he primarily cried silently. The thick collar of her sweater soon dampened with his tears and felt clumpy against her collarbone, but she hardly minded or even noticed. He painted the skin of her neck with salt and water, a portrait of misery and trauma long overdue. He was so touch-starved and desperate for comfort that he slung his leg over hers at one point and almost climbed into her lap, unbalancing her with his superior weight. Momo made the quick decision to set the mugs of hot chocolate on the nightstand and lay down on the bed, allowing him to climb on top of her and bury his face back into her neck. It was a bit awkward and hard to breathe with his muscular bulk, and her face burned with the implications, but Shoto had no ulterior motives in mind. He wanted love and affirmation, and she was the only one there to give it. She would yield that, gladly.

His muffles sniffles gradually quieted into deep breaths. Momo had taken to idly running her fingers over his spine and into his hair and back again. “Do you feel better?” she asked him. He groaned a little under his breath and pushed himself up onto his forearms, blinking at her with bleary, watery red eyes. His gaze then dropped, and a pink haze appeared on his cheeks.

“… Much,” he admitted in a small voice. Momo giggled and cupped his face in her hands, making him blush further.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“This is a pretty embarrassing position we’re in. I’m surprised _you’re_ not embarrassed.” Truthfully, Momo had been too busy soothing the boy to pay much attention, but he was right. His thigh was lodged between hers, and his entire weight draped over her left side, chest-to-chest. Her face blazed with a sudden pink fire, and he narrowed his eyes. “I knew it,” he sighed and moved to get up. For reasons she couldn’t process at the moment, her hands snapped to his biceps to dig in and hold him in place.

“N-no! I’m all right! Really!” she squeaked in protest. His eyebrows shot up to the roots of his hair, and he regarded her bewilderedly. Her eyes rolled in their sockets, not settling on any one thing for more than a second, while she pitifully attempted to voice her scattered thoughts. “I-I mean, we’re friends, right? Some platonic cuddling is good bonding! N-not that this was about the cuddling, of course. I just wanted to make you feel better, a-a-and I just don’t know how to comfort someone without, you know, t-t-touching and h-holding…” The more she blathered explanations, the more mortified she felt, and her face took on the hue of an apple. When she finally looked back at him, he was smiling widely in amusement.

“So… you won’t mind if I do _this_?”

All the breath was knocked out of her lungs in a whistling wheeze as he flopped down on her.

“Shotoo _ooo_ ,” she groaned as her chest muscles tightened under strain, and she could feel his body rumble as he chuckled. He propped his cheek into his hand and grinned mischievously at her, to which she responded with a babyish pout. She gasped when he suddenly stroked her cheek with the backs of his index and middle fingers, ever so softly.

“Thank you, Yaoyorozu. I mean it.”

She smiled warmly at him and tilted her head a little, her black hair falling over his pillow.

“Anytime.” She frowned thoughtfully and then grinned. “You know, considering we’re…” she gestured generically at their current position, “you can call me Momo.” He snorted with laughter and then nodded.

“Of course… Momo.” Something about the way he whispered her name sent pleasurable tingles propagating all through her nerves, lighting her up with invisible fireworks. His eyes searched her face, studying it intently like he wished to memorize every nuance. Momo knew not what to do about it, so she remained still, breathlessly watching his heterochromatic eyes roam over her flushed face. After what seemed like hours, his wandering gaze settled on her lips. Without looking away, he quietly asked, “Momo… Can I…?” He did not finish his sentence, but she knew what he was asking, nevertheless. She responded with a tiny nod, and her breath stalled in her lungs in anticipation.

Balancing himself on his elbows, he descended over her to press their lips together in a sweet, virtuous kiss. Momo tilted her head slightly, allowing his lips to mold over hers; it felt so _natural_ , the way they fell into place, like they were two halves of the same whole. He held the kiss for several heart-pounding moments before pulling back, brushing the tip of his nose along hers as he did so. Momo compulsively swallowed and licked her lips, tasting the very faint hints of hot chocolate he left behind. Shoto smiled affectionately and ran his hands through her fluffy black hair. “I suppose you should get going before the others get curious.”

“I could,” she supposed, “but I’m not sure I want to.” Shoto blushed at that, looking at the two half-drunken mugs of now cold chocolate. He then looked back to her, and she turned her head to display the curve of her neck invitingly. His eyes flashed roguishly before he grinned and buried his face there, his chest swelling as he inhaled her scent. Momo wrapped her arms around his middle and closed her eyes contentedly. She savored the rise and fall of his chest, the puffs of his breath against her skin, and his fingertips trailing down her curves. Momo knew she was _well_ over the line of propriety and decorum, but she didn’t care much.

 _I’ll hold you in my arms forever, if that’s what it takes for you to heal,_ she thought as she drifted into the pleasant twilight of half-sleep. _Here with me, you will always be safe and loved._


	13. Hushabye Mountain

Category: General Fluff

Characters: Shota Aizawa, Eri

The rain pounded against the walls and windows, filling the ordinarily quiet night air with insistent drumming. Occasionally, the wind would wail and rattle the branches of the trees outside, making their spindly fingers and dripping leaves scrape against the siding. Thunder rolled in the roiling gray clouds, preceded by brilliant flashes of white streaks of lightning that carved like lines of silver through the fluffy masses.

Shota could see the reflection of the window in the bright glaring screen of his laptop. For the last ten minutes, instead of finalizing his lesson plans for the following week like he ought to, he had been watching the water stream over the glass pane like a thundering waterfall. A particularly loud boom of thunder shook the dormitory, and he sighed deeply, leaning far back in his computer chair to rub his eyes.

He peered through his fingers at his alarm clock. Bright, neon green numbers spelled out 2:18 a.m. in the gloom. He ran a hand over his face, which then split into a long yawn. For a man who loved his sleep, he sure found himself awake at ungodly hours of the night more often than he wished to.

A small creak from the other side of the room attracted his attention. He used his feet to turn the chair around to glance at the bedroom door, finding it slightly ajar. Ruby red eyes, watery and full, blinked at him from the small gap. With a small tsk, Shota rubbed the side of his head and gestured for the little girl to enter the room.

“Does the thunder scare you?” he inquired as Eri shuffled into the small bedroom. She stopped several feet away from him and silently shook her head. Eri had been residing at U.A. for several months now, but the girl was still very much skittish. Smiling softly, Shota motioned with his hand for her to approach. Her butterfly-patterned yellow nightgown swished around her little knees as she cautiously padded over the wooden floor to his chair. “What is it, Eri?”

“I had a nightmare,” she admitted meekly. Her little fingers wrung into themselves, and she looked guiltily at her bare feet. “I dreamed… That I was back _there_ , and _he_ was doing those awful things to me.” She ran her small hands over her arms, arms that had not too long ago been swathed in bandages. Her bottom lip wobbled as tears sprung to the corners of her eyes. “I dreamed that Lemillion and Deku were dead, and he was _laughing_ at me, telling me it was all my _fault_!”

“Hey, hey,” he consoled quietly as she began to cry pitifully. He leaned down to slip his hands under her armpits, and then lifted her effortlessly into his lap. She rubbed at her teary eyes with her hands, sniffling and hiccupping. “Overhaul can’t hurt you anymore,” he crooned, smudging the tears away with the pads of his thumb. It did little good, as the girl continued to cry petulantly, replacing the deposed tears with new ones. Shota just exhaled and hugged her head to his chest, running his fingers through her wavy, white-silver hair. He had never been good with children. _Hizashi could probably get her to smile,_ he thought with a click of his teeth.

Eri snuggled into his body as she cried, pawing her little hands into the folds of his tee-shirt. After a few minutes, she ceased her weeping and propped herself up on her knees to cuddle into his shoulder. Shota’s hand smoothed soothing circles into the small of her back, and he leaned his head against hers.

“I know he can’t hurt me anymore,” she whimpered, digging her hands into the sleeves of his shirt, “but it still frightens me. I’m afraid that one day I’ll wake up, and all of this will have been a dream.” Shota smiled painfully. _This is much too heavy a burden for a child to carry. If I ever see Overhaul again, I’ll rip out his insides,_ he thought bitterly. He pushed Eri back so that she sat on her knees, pouting uncertainly at him. Shota brushed a strand of her milk-white hair from her round face, tucking it behind her ear.

“That’s a pretty scary thought,” he agreed gently, “but you’re safe now. This is no dream.” Her small lips curled into a shaky smile, and internally, Shota shouted victory. Another roaring roll of thunder resounded through the heavens, shaking the sturdy walls of the dormitory. Eri squeaked and jumped into him, making him chuckle and wrap his arms snugly around her quivering body. “So, you _are_ scared of the thunder, too.”

“It’s so loud! I could never hear it so deep underground… Is the sky falling?”

“No, the sky’s not falling. Come on now. Let’s go to your room.” Obediently, she wound her slim arms around his neck and tucked her tiny legs against his waist. Bearing her weight with the thick of his left arm, he rose from the chair to head to the little girl’s room. The drenched yard beyond the row of floor-to-ceiling glass windows thrashed in the thrall of the storm; the crackles of lightning illuminated the thrashing trees and trembling bushes and rippling puddles of rainwater. Eri’s vermillion eyes reflected in the glass like two shining blood moons, beholding the splendor of nature’s power.

“Are you sure we’ll be okay?” she asked unsurely. Shota smiled and patted the back of her head reassuringly.

“I’m sure. Tomorrow, the grass will be greener and the flowers brighter because of all this rain. If you asked him, Midoriya might take you out to play in the mud puddles.” He felt the girl stiffen with glee, and she released a delighted little gasp, making him grin. _Maybe I know children better than I thought._

The pink nightlight blazing in the corner filled Eri’s bedroom with a soft, rosy glow. He carried her over to her bed and gently lowered her into it, then pulled the comforter snugly under her chin. She pouted thoughtfully up at him, her eyes shaking like she wished to ask him a question. “What is it, Eri?”

“Will you sing to me?” Shota’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Eri fingered the hem of the comforter, looking a bit guilty. “I’m sorry. We watched a movie the other day, and a mother sang a lullaby to her baby. I don’t… I don’t remember if my mother ever even sang me lullabies… I just wanted to know what it was like.” Shota’s mouth twisted into a mixture between a smile and scowl. Jeez, how awful would he be, to refuse such an innocent request from such a traumatized girl? Resigning himself to the humiliation, Shota sat on the edge of the bed and wracked his mind for a suitable melody for the girl. Deep in the recesses of his memory, he recalled a tune.

“ _A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain softly blows over Lullaby Bay. It fills the sails of boats that are waiting, waiting to sail your worries away,_ ” he sang awkwardly, shifting on the bed. Eri’s blood-red eyes watched him rapturously, her lips slightly parted in fascination. He cleared his throat and continued, looking up at the ceiling with pink cheeks, “ _It isn’t far to Hushabye Mountain, and your boat waits down by the quay. The winds of night so softly are sighing. Soon they will fly your troubles away._ ”

He peeked out of his peripheral vision to see Eri’s eyes drooping. She blinked slowly, like a cat, and smacked her lips a little. The edge of Shota’s mouth curled upward into a smile. “ _So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave goodbye to cares of the day, and watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain sail far away from Lullaby Bay._ ” Her chest was rising and falling with deep, unlabored breaths. Her red irises just barely peeked out from beneath her long lashes, and they hazed with exhaustion. Shota smirked, knowing she was forcing herself to stay awake for the last verse. He swept his hand over her forehead, ruffling her soft bangs. “ _So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave goodbye to cares of the day, and watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain sail far away from Lullaby Bay._ ”

With one final, long exhale, her eyes drifted closed. Shota cocked his head and watched her sleep for a while, stroking lines into her cascades of hair. Her face remained peaceful and unworried; no more nightmares tainted the solace of her rest. The rain had dwindled to a soft pattering against the roof tiles, with the thunder no more than a few distant rumbles. He leaned back on the palms of his hands to watch her with a tiny smile. Shota hadn’t been quite sure what to make of it, when Principal Nezu had assigned her to his care. Yet, looking at her then, so pure and content, Shota knew in his heart he didn’t regret it.

“G’night, Eri,” he breathed and brushed her small knuckles with his fingertips. Her little mouth curled into a teensy smile and she muttered his name, though she was completely unconscious. He hesitated for a second, then leaned over and pressed a small kiss to her forehead, overwhelmed by paternal instincts. When he leaned back, her smile had widened.

When Shota finally ventured back into his bedroom, the neon numbers were shouting 2:37 at him. Groaning, he flopped face-first onto his bed, not even bothering to pull the covers over himself. Lying on his belly and hugging the pillow, he looked thoughtfully out the raindrop-splattered window. _… Maybe tomorrow, I’ll wake up early and take Eri to play in the mud puddles myself._ Smirking, he rolled over to set his alarm for the following morning.


	14. Smooth

Category: Romantic Fluff

Characters: Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro

Requested By: deliathedork (Tumblr)

Denki craned his head back as he adjusted the violet bowtie secured just above the collar of his dress shirt for the thousandth time. Once he was at least partially sure he did not look a fool, he lowered his head back down and rolled his shoulders, making the black suspenders stretching down to his black slacks flex.

“All right, Denki. You got this. It’s just a date with a girl. Well, not just a girl, a bomb-ass girl, but hey! No sweat! Be cool. Be _suaaaave_. Be swagalicious- wait, no, that’s dumb. Don’t do that.” He babbled encouragement to himself in the mirror that hung on the back of his closet door, but it only made him feel marginally better. With a groan, he flopped forward to press his forehead into the cold glass. “Who am I kidding? How can I ever impress such a classy girl like Kyoka… She probably only agreed to go out on a date with you out of pity,” he grumbled self-pityingly. He jumped, rattling the glass mirror, as his bedroom door slammed shut. He hadn’t even heard it open. “What the hell-?!”

“ _Denki Kaminari_! I will hear no such talk from you!” Mina scolded as she stomped over. Denki straightened as stiff as a board, submitting himself to her scrutiny like a private to his drill sergeant. She pursed her lips as she studied him intensely, only pausing to smooth a few creases in his dress shirt and flick some dust from his suspender straps. When she grinned brightly at him, he smiled. “You look great, Denki,” she nodded and patted his upper arms. “You’re going to have a great time! Don’t be so nervous. It’s only Kyoka.”

“Yeah, it’s _Kyoka_ , who is infinitely cooler than me,” he pouted. He hissed when she flicked him on the nose. He rubbed the pink spot with a babyish pout while she waggled her finger disapprovingly.

“No! I will not condone you putting yourself down! You are going to give Kyoka the night of her life, damn it, or I’ll kick your keister to Kingdom Come!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Denki laughed. Mina always knew how to make him feel better with her feisty mother-henning. He exhaled and smoothed his sweaty palms down his slacks before rolling his shoulders again. “It’s showtime.” He flashed a wink to Mina before strolling out of the bedroom, hurrying before his bravado melted away.

“Go get her, Tiger!” he heard Mina shouting excitedly after him.

He took the steps two at a time to arrive at the students’ shared common room. Of course, everybody knew about Kyoka and Denki’s date, so they had crammed themselves on the couches nearest the stairs to obtain an up-close and personal view of the pre-game antics. Denki blushed when a chorus of whistles, claps, and hoots greeted him.

“You ready, ya big stud?” Eijirou cackled mischievously as the blonde approached. Denki grabbed a throw pillow and whacked him in the face with it, telling him to knock it off. The redhead smirked and reclined against the couch, hugging the throw pillow to his broad chest as he watched Denki circle the sofa to sit on the coffee table. “Seriously, though! You and Kyoka! Can’t believe you finally had the guts to ask her out, man.”

“‘Guts?’” Katsuki snorted derisively and pushed his cheek into his hand. “He was a stammering, sweaty mess. It was pitiful.”

“Aw, shut up, Baku-bro. Why don’t you grow a pair and finally tell Ochako you think she’s cute?” Katsuki flushed bright pink and instinctively looked at the stairs, terrified the bubbly girl would be descending with Kyoka. He sighed in relief seeing the stairwell empty, and then lunged forward to grab Denki, cursing loudly. He only snatched empty air, as Denki had jumped up to prance over to Izuku and Tenya.

“Get over here, Pikachu, and lemme pluck a few of those hairs outta your head!”

“Relax, Katsuki,” Eijirou chuckled with a placating hand on the volatile blond’s shoulder. Katsuki growled and hunched into the couch, muttering very unflattering descriptions of what he would do to Denki when he got his hands on him. Denki grinned cheekily and leaned over the edge of the couch between Izuku and Tenya’s heads.

“So, Denki, where are you taking her?” Izuku chirped.

“A café and record shop. Kyoka loves music, so I thought it would be a good place.”

“Let me guess- Mina suggested it?” Tenya smirked knowingly. Denki pouted dourly, hurt that the bespectacled boy would think the pink girl to be the entire brain of his operation.

“I chose that place myself- thank you very much! … I did run it by Mina to approve it, though.” The ring of students snorted in laughter, making him blush bashfully. Mina just knew so much about romantic endeavors! She had been instrumental in his courtship of the stoic hero girl from start to finish. He’d definitely be a bungling idiot without her.

“Is Denki down there already?” Momo’s voice came floating from the second-story landing. Denki straightened up, feeling a numb flush pulse through every cell in his body with anticipation of what was to come. Izuku shouted affirmative, and Momo giddily replied, “Good! She’s all ready to go!” Denki swallowed thickly at the first clunk of wedge heels on the stairs, feeling all the moisture in his mouth evaporate at once. He caught the peek of the shoes first, wicker wedges with black straps, followed by her shapely legs and the hem of a ruffled purple skirt. As if pulled by a magnetic force, Denki sluggishly rounded the couches, watching enraptured as more of the girl appeared with every step. A white jean jacket framed her body, hanging loose around a lavender tank top. _Cunning Mina. She planned this,_ he thought wryly as he fingered his bluish-purple bowtie. The fringes of her hair swished around her shoulders, and then finally, he could see her bashful smile, and her eyes flickering warmly when she clapped eyes on him.

“You look beautiful,” he breathed on reflex. He completely ignored the sniggers and japes circulating behind him to walk quickly to Kyoka, desperate to behold her at a much closer distance. He looked her from bottom to top to bottom again and was more stunned than before. “R-really beautiful,” he continued with a pink haze to his cheeks. Flushing, she gripped her mauve clasp and bashfully swung her body from side to side.

“Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

“ _God, get a rooooom_!” Katsuki howled from behind them. Denki looked back in annoyance to see him dramatically sprawling over the arm of the couch while the others struggled to contain their giggles. He rolled his eyes and looked back to Kyoka with a small smile, offering her his arm.

“Shall we?” The girl responded with a tiny nod and hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow, squeezing his bicep slightly. Denki’s heart somersaulted, and he nearly fainted from the sudden drop in blood pressure, but he held fast. _The night’s only just begun, Denki._ His friends called farewells and good luck’s behind him as he led Kyoka out of the dormitory and onto the well-tended concrete paths of U.A. High School. It was early in the evening, with the sun hovering over the horizon, preparing for its descent. In the late afternoon glow, bees hummed around the flowers for one final pollen collection, and the night birds were beginning to stir, filling the breezy air with sleepy chirps. “We’ll have to take the train,” he informed her as they strode through the wrought-iron gate and onto the street sidewalk. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!” he grinned cheekily at her. She huffed and rolled her eyes to look at the passing cars, but Denki did not miss the way her glossed lips curled into a small smile.

~~~~~~~~~~

In hindsight, Denki probably should have opted for a slightly later time, because the train was stuffed to capacity with the 5 o’clock traffic. The two of them were both red-faced within seconds of boarding, as they were forced to cram into the aisle and cling to the hanging handlebars. Kyoka’s nose was pressed right into his sternum, occasionally bumping him with the rattling jostles of the heavy vehicle. During one particularly jolting shake of the train car, she gasped and used her free hand to grab him right over his ribs, making him flinch with the tickling sensation. Her cheeks flushed rosy pink, and she meekly mumbled an apology.

“It’s all right,” Denki laughed casually. He exuded a calm persona, but on the inside, he was squealing at the intimate touch. He prayed that he kept his cool in the awkward situation, because he would hate for their date to end on a sour note before it even began…

They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they exited the cram-packed train and were able to gulp down fresh air. The record shop-slash-café was a short jaunt from the station, thankfully. During their brief commute, the sun had sunk low into the sky, now a bubbling yellow semicircle peeking out through the gaps between the multitude of shops and businesses lining the busy street. “Here we go,” Denki smiled as they approached, and he gestured at the unassuming little brick-and-mortar café with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“Oh, wow,” Kyoka blinked in appreciative shock. She took a few steps towards the tinted window lined with tour posters of various performers- pop bands, rock groups, and solo artists of numerous styles. The smile she gave him when she looked over her shoulder melted him into putty. “I’ve never been here before! How could I not know such a place exists?” She dashed over to grab his hand and lug him inside. “Come on, Denki! Let’s go check it out!” Her slim fingers enveloped his so perfectly that it made his heart sing higher than any opera soprano. She released his hand in the aisle so she could dive into the rows of record discs stacked neatly within the confines of the shelves. Denki just watched her warmly, genuinely pleased to see her so passionate and freely enjoying herself.

“They have this on vinyl?! Oh my gosh!” she gasped as she pulled one record from the stack, admiring the casing with wide eyes. She tucked it under her arm to begin rifling through the collection again. “Wow! My dad would _love_ this one!” she beamed breathlessly and pulled another from the stack. She held the two records up, suddenly frowning. “Oh, but they’re both pretty expensive… I should only get one, but which?”

“Kyoka,” he piped up suddenly. She flushed red and peeked at him through her peripheral vision.

“I’m sorry, Denki! We came here to eat, didn’t we? I just got so excited,” she sputtered and went to replace the records to the shelf. Denki reached out and caught her wrist, gently pulling the vinyl record from her grip to tuck it under his arm.

“I’ll buy this one, and you can buy your dad that one.”

“ _Denki_!” she squeaked, flushing darker with embarrassment. Clutching her clasp to her chest and holding the other record up, she squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s so much, though…”

“No, it isn’t. Not for you.” She wriggled around to turn her back to him, her ear jacks writhing with an overabundance of nervous energy.

“Since when did you get so smooth…?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Nothing! Thank you!” she answered quickly and scurried to the cash register in the corner. Denki watched her in amusement, then looked at the record.

“She called me ‘smooth,’” he sniggered under his breath and tossed the record up, then caught it and strode over to the cash register to pay for her gift.

~~~~~~~~~~

The café featured a selection of light meals and morsels. The pair sat in front of the full glass window, watching the passersby, chatting amiably, and snacking on small finger-foods. The bag of records lay on the floor beside Kyoka’s chair, and Denki _never_ missed when she would glance down at it and smile, pinching her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from seeming too giddy. Every movement of hers felt like magic to Denki; the way she leaned the chair back on two legs, the way she primly held her cup of bubble tea to sip it daintily, the way she hunched into herself as she laughed at his incredibly corny jokes. He couldn’t help but be enamored with her, and soon he was leaning his head into his hands just staring dreamily at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Denki?” Kyoka chuckled and sucked the last couple of tapioca pearls from the bottom of the plastic cup.

“Because you’re the most amazing girl that I’ve ever met.” She blushed and set the cup down, shyly hiding her face in her hands.

“Don’t say things like that…”

“Why not? It’s true. I’m sitting here, trying to figure out why the hell such a classy girl like you is on a date with a dork like me.” She lowered her hands to rest them in her lap, smiling kindly at him.

“You _are_ a dork,” she admitted with a teasing snort. Denki took no offense, but instead smirked in amusement. She suddenly reached across the table to grasp one of his hands, flushing as she did so. She stared intently down at it, running the pad of her thumb over the skin there. “You’re an amazing person, too. Your level of optimism and hope really amazes me,” she answered, her eyes flickering up to meet his widening ones. “You keep striving to better yourself, and you care so strongly about your friends. What girl _wouldn’t_ fall for a guy like that?”

It was his turn to blush. As his cheeks blazed with a rosy hue, he leaned back in the chair and ran his free hand through his yellow-and-black hair.

“ _Now_ who’s the smooth one?” Kyoka went redder than an apple, apparently under the assumption he had not overheard her bashful mumblings. Denki chuckled and pushed aside the empty plates and empty plastic cups to grasp her hand with both of his. “… I’m really glad, though. Part of me was afraid you just pitied me.”

She narrowed her dark eyebrows and smirked seditiously at him.

“Does that seem like something I would do?”

“N-no!” he refused quickly, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. He smiled wanly and tilted his head a little to look at the crumbs on his plate. “I just… I don’t have a lot of self-confidence. Not really. It’s mostly a façade. All of the other guys are so amazing, and I seem so lackluster in comparison sometimes,” he sighed and dropped his arms glumly. “In the back of my mind, I thought that surely I wasn’t good enough for you, and you were just being nice.”

“Denki,” she whispered sadly. He smiled anemically and shrugged, trying not to kill the mood completely. She ignored the conciliating gesture and scooched her chair around the small glass table so that she was seated next to him, her knee just barely brushing his. She put her hand on his lower thigh in a comforting gesture. “Let me tell you something. You have _just_ as much right to be in Class 1-A as the rest of us. Don’t you ever feel like you’re not worth as much- especially in my eyes. I like you because I see how much you’re worth, not out of pity.”

As he attempted to swallow, a hard lump lodged in his throat. He wrung the stiff fabric of his slacks, trying not to let his lips wobble too much as he smiled.

“Thanks, Kyoka,” he whispered hoarsely, looking down at his lap. Her fingers slipped under his chin to pull his face towards hers, and he offered no resistance. Her black eyes glinted like chips of onyx as they bored intently into his.

“I mean it. I really like you, Denki Kaminari.”

“I like you a lot too, Kyoka,” he smiled, genuinely this time. She seemed pleased with his reaction. Her hand dropped from his face to fall against the middle of his chest. “Hey, uh… Would you mind if I, um… kissed you?”

“I won’t slap you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah,” he chortled. “Please don’t.” Her eyelashes fluttered demurely, but her anxiety was betrayed by the faint dusting of rose blooming over her cheeks. He swept her purple-black hair from her face to tuck a swathe of it behind her ear, and as his palm settled against her cheek, she leaned into his touch. His gaze dropped down to her lips, and he momentarily wondered what flavor lip gloss she was wearing. He was dimly aware of her lips pursing and her eyes closing as he depleted the distance between them.

As his mouth enveloped hers, his heart went to somersaulting again, and the hazy fog drifted over his mind. The flavor of strawberries and tangerines, faintly accented by the vanilla bubble tea she had been drinking, leaked into his mouth as he gently kissed her. His nerves exploded like fireworks, sending crackling energy from the crowd of his head to the tips of his toes; he then grew a little scared it was actually his Quirk raging out of control, so he suddenly retreated. Thankfully, no little electrical sparks were crackling on his fingertips. _Shocking the hell out of her would definitely leave the date on a sour note._

She breathed a little sigh as her eyes flipped back open. Denki smiled bashfully, slinging his arm over the back of the small café chair and running his other hand into his bangs. The clock on the wall opposite them was chiming at 6 p.m. “We’d better get outta here. Mr. Aizawa’ll lecture us for half an hour if we come home late.” Due to the recent encounters with villains, even approved outings had curfews. It was a shame, because Denki was in no mood to cut their date short.

Kyoka smiled chivalrously and nodded. As she got up, Denki plucked the paper bag from the floor and tossed it over his shoulder. He extended his other hand for her to hold, looking endearingly at her. With a loving smile, he slipped her hand into his and interlocked their fingers tightly.

“For the record, you’re pretty smooth for a dork.” Denki snorted in laughter, bonking his head against hers as they strolled together out of the café. “That isn’t just to boost your confidence, either.”

“Thanks,” he snickered. The bag of records bounced gently against his shoulder blade as they meandered towards the station. Hands locked together, huddling close, the two young lovers enjoyed the last few moments of their sacred time under the glimmering white stars…


	15. Quiet Strength

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Ochako Uraraka

Thundering howls of laughter rumbled from Katsuki’s throat as his gauntleted fist crashed through the solid boulder, sending pebbles and baseball-sized rocks sailing in every direction. Steam billowed from the magma seeping from the ultra-hot stone he had essentially liquified with the power of his explosion; the wispy white smoke kissed his sweaty, flushed face and tickled his tousled blonde locks before disappearing into the air. He yanked his fist from the crumbled rock, flexing his fingers experimentally, and hissed at the stinging pain that bloomed across his palm.

What had been the flame-retardant leather devised by the Support Course was now nothing more than a few tattered scraps barely clinging together. _Dammit. Now I’ll have to submit for an upgrade. Who knows how long that crap’ll take?_ He scowled and shook his hand in the air. The bright pink skin wailed at the contact with the rushing wind, sending tendrils of fiery pain jolting up his arm and even into the junction of his shoulder. Katsuki ignored the sharp tingle, stepping over the destroyed piles of rocks to pick his way back down the slope to the floor of the gym.

“Wow, Bakugo!” Eijirou’s ruby eyes glittered in admiration. “You made short work of those boulders! Even in Unbreakable Mode, it took me a few hits!”

“Of course I did, dumbass,” Katsuki snorted and snatched his water bottle from the floor. He winced; in his lack of thought, he had grabbed the plastic container with his dominant hand- the burned one. The condensation littering the cold surface seeped into the singed flesh, making the raw meat there scream in agony. Katsuki only clenched his teeth and sucked down the water, then tossed the now-empty bottle into the garbage can in the corner.

“All right. You all have been at it for two hours,” Mr. Aizawa frowned while glancing at the screen of his smartphone. The gym echoed with exhausted gasps and reeked with the stench of exertion. “You’re done for the day.” Katsuki flexed his hand again, scowling as the pain rocketed through his nerves once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

“ _Fuck_!” Katsuki exclaimed as the water cascaded down onto his wounded palm. He hadn’t anticipated the burn would be so severe. The skin over his fingers and palm bubbled up in several blisters, already filled with fluid though it hadn’t been thirty minutes. The water, though only lukewarm, felt like lava streaming over the injured skin. Katsuki fumbled to wash his body and hair with his non-dominant hand, keeping the burning flesh well away from the shower’s thundering stream. He didn’t even use it to towel himself dry.

“God damn son of a _bitch_ ,” he grumbled under his breath as he clumsily fumbled into his sweatpants and a tee-shirt. Why couldn’t it have been his other hand? “ _Fuckfuckfuck_!” he cried as he lost his balance and began hopping around on one foot, his leg half-caught in the thick fabric of the sweats. An angry roar burst from his throat as he slipped in a small puddle of water and fell hard right on his rump. His tailbone wailed protest, spasming the muscles in his lower back, and he unleashed every curse in the dictionary and then some as he writhed on the damp bathroom floor. The skin of his palm pulsed with its own heartbeat, sending fireworks of pain up his arm with every drum. “Fuck _me_.”

Somehow, he managed to get his clothes on, finally. However, now on top of the burn, his lower back was aching something terrible. He limped into the common room, ignoring the content chattering of his classmates on the sofas to instead hobble into the kitchen. He winced at the stretch as he reached up to begin rifling through cabinets for painkillers and burn cream. He was too invested in his search to see Ochako meander into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk.

“Oh, Katsuki!”

“Jesus Christ-! Fuck, shit, fuck, damn it, ahh!” he cursed as he jumped and slammed his burned palm on the underside of the counter. Holding his wrist, he leaned over the granite and wheezed out an exaggerated whine. “ _What_?!” he snarled as the girl scampered over to him.

“Your hand! How did you get such a terrible burn?!” Katsuki ignored the question. Ochako’s brown eyebrows knitted together as she inspected the bubbly flesh of his palm and the clear, sticky liquid oozing from the blister that had just burst. Katsuki clicked his tongue at her simpering piteous expression.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that. I’m fine,” he huffed. He glanced into the cabinet and found that he had been groping around the Silvadene cream the entire time. With a snort, he plucked it from the cabinet and struggled to open it one-handed.

“L-let me!” Ochako insisted and snatched the short, squat bottle of medicine from him. Katsuki turned around to rest his back against the counter, watching with critical red eyes as she quickly removed the lid.

“I didn’t ask for your help, Uraraka.”

“No, you didn’t, but you’re getting it anyway,” she responded coolly, making the corner of his mouth twitch. She slathered a healthy chunk of the goopy liquid onto her first two fingers before gesturing with her chin. “Open up your hand and spread out your fingers.” Though he loathed the fact that he required aid, refusing her now wasn’t worth the energy. Silently, he did as bid. His shoulders twinged with the flexion of his burned fingers. Ochako slopped the bright white cream onto the middle of his palm, and he melted into the countertop with a shaky exhale.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he breathed. Ochako smiled sweetly and began spreading the paste across his palm and up onto the undersides of his fingers. A cooling numb spread over the inflamed cells, quieting the piercing pain that had been pulsing in his hand since training had ended. He watched her careful motions with lidded eyes.

“You should be careful, you know,” she chastised him gently. “Even _you_ have your limits. I know you want to get stronger, but nothing will come of pushing yourself to the point that it’s destructive.” Katsuki clicked his teeth at her, cocking his head to the side in a vain gesture. Ochako only smiled and applied a second layer of burn cream to his hand.

“You’re one to talk, Cheeks. What was that whole business with tryin’ to drop the stadium on my head, ah?” The Sports Festival had been months ago, but Katsuki still remembered their fight vividly. The way her body wobbled and sagged to the side, how she struggled with trembling arms to even bear her own weight, the glaze in her chestnut eyes as she struggled to keep her consciousness… His eyelashes fluttered to banish the illusion of the scene as she spoke.

“I have the authority to speak on it _because_ I’ve been there,” she sighed. She stopped her ministrations to hold Katsuki’s hand up with both her own, Silvadene-coated fingertips smearing the medicine over the top of his hand. “Sometimes… everyone else just seems so great in comparison that it feels like I’ll never catch up. In that fight, I was so _desperate_ to prove that I belong here… but it was destructive. I _will_ grow stronger, but with time and effort, not with leaps and bounds born from destroying my body.” Katsuki’s eyes widened as he looked at her. The truth rang hollowly in him. Begrudged as he was to admit it, she was totally right. She smiled warmly up at him and then flicked him in the forehead.

“ _Hey_ ,” he warned, and she giggled cutely.

“I don’t need another Deku on my hands! It’s bad enough that he’s broken half the bones in his body before the age of sixteen!” She exhaled deeply and retrieved a swathe of bandages. She unpinned the tan, thick fabric, then gently began rolling it around the palm of his hand. “You’ll get stronger, and I will too. We just both need _time_.” Katsuki frowned and looked away from her, debating whether or not to acknowledge the fact that she was right out loud.

“… All right, all right, I get your point,” Katsuki admitted after several seconds of silence. Ochako pinned the bandages with a small safety clasp and lowered her hands. The fabric was cumbersome around his hand and wrist, and he couldn’t even close his fist entirely. Still, the pain had been reduced to a dull ache that he could easily ignore with distraction. “Hey,” he said as she turned to retrieve her glass of milk, which still lay untouched on the countertop. When she looked back at him with an inquiring look, he blushed and pawed at his gym shorts, not really sure why he had stopped her.

“I, ugh… Thanks,” Katsuki fumbled and raised his bandaged hand. Ochako blinked at him, taking a moment to realize his gesture of gratitude, before smiling sweetly. Before she could respond, he abruptly grabbed her by the head and pulled her into his chest. She squeaked his name with her hands flapping about, not sure where she should place them.

“Hey,” he said softly. Ochako relaxed, and her hands drifted down to rest on his biceps. “You be careful, too. You think I’m stupid? I see you walking home every day wobbling like a drunk, and you threw up four fucking times at training today.” He felt heat bloom across his pectorals as her face heated up. He dropped his mouth against her hair, inhaling her scent of vanilla shampoo. “You be careful, too, dumbass. Who else is gonna take care of me when I go too far?”

“Hehe, okay,” she acknowledged with an eager nod. She pulled away from Katsuki to beam up at him with those big brown eyes that made his heart melt. Snorting at his sappiness, he lightly pushed her away, but the gesture was laced with affection. “Drink your milk, Cheeks. I’m goin’ to bed.”

“Aw! But we’re playing charades tonight!”

“Now I’m definitely goin’ to bed.” As he whirled on his heel, Ochako scampered up to hug his arm and bat her eyelashes pleadingly at him. Katsuki grimaced, but she grinned victoriously as a rosy haze spread over his cheeks.

“ _Please_ , Bakugo? Just a few rounds! You should see Kaminari’s impression of a crab; it’s too funny!”

“Agh, _whatever_ , as long as you stop climbin’ all over me like a spider monkey!” he cried and shook his arm emphatically. She stubbornly clung to him like glue, cackling mischievously. “Come on! Let go!” he whined and pushed on her head. Finally, she relented, releasing him from her grip. “Bah, what am I going to do with you?” he growled and ran a hand through his ash-blond hair.

“Aw, Bakugo, don’t pretend you don’t like me!” she said coyly and stuck out her tongue. She gasped in dismay when he snatched up her glass of milk and drained it to the last drop. “Hey! That was _mine_!” she pouted and snatched the empty glass from him. Katsuki sneered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glittering playfully.

“That’s what you get for messin’ with me, Cheeks.”

“Ya big meanie!” she snorted, then smiled and nudged him in the ribs. She retrieved the gallon jug from the refrigerator and poured herself another, then skipped to the entryway. “Come on, let’s go!” she insisted and tugged the band of his watch. He allowed her to pull him along by jerking on the device. She smiled radiantly when they entered the common room, greeting their classmates and excitedly scampering over to the sofas to begin the game of charades. Bakugo leaned against the back of the couch, watching her with a tiny smile.

In his mind, Ochako really didn’t need to get stronger. She was plenty strong, but it was not the strength of a physical kind. It was a quiet strength of care and passion. _Plenty strong for a reckless dumbass like me,_ he smirked in amusement. As she clapped happily to Eijirou’s comical rendition of a koala, she caught his eye and smiled warmly.

**_Plenty_ ** _strong. Nothin’ frail about her._


	16. Sentimentality

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Mashirao Ojiro, Tooru Hagakure

A lost sock is an inevitability. A misplaced tee-shirt or pair of shorts is a likelihood. Hell, even leaving a jacket behind on one's school desk isn't exactly an uncommon occurrence. Mashirao definitely had misplaced some clothing articles in his life, for sure. Yet… He wasn't sure he was air-headed enough to lose an entire half of his wardrobe. Well, half was an exaggeration, but three tee-shirts and a hoodie in two days was just plain suspicious. 

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he inspected the empty hangers in his closet. _Yep. There are definitely more of them than usual,_ he concluded with a puzzled hum. He wouldn't consider them clothes that were particularly worth stealing; it wasn't like the thief could pawn them online and make a substantial amount. No, that wasn't the motive. _Maybe I should ask Tooru. She's friends with Mina, and Mina knows everyone's secrets._ He suddenly narrowed his eyes. _Come to think of it… I haven't seen Tooru at all these past two days._

It was easy to miss an invisible girl, even when she was dressed in a school uniform or fluffy pajamas, but Mashirao genuinely couldn't recall seeing her in the past forty-eight hours. Friday afternoon after class, she had stumbled off to her bedroom, and had been suspiciously absent ever since. He had not seen her at meals, though he dimly recalled Ochako mentioning she would take plates to the girl later. It was now late Sunday evening. _Could she be sick?_ He wondered and rubbed the back of his neck. The riddle of his missing clothes would likely remain unsolved, so at the very least, he ought to crack the mystery of a missing invisible girl. 

The wooden planks thrummed with his footfalls as he meandered to the girls' side of the dorms. The rest of the students were downstairs in the common room; Mashirao had been there as well, and had only left to finish his laundry, wherein he discovered the missing clothing articles. The dormitory halls were eerily silent as he proceeded towards Tooru's room. When he arrived, he cleared his throat loudly before knocking on the door. 

"Hagakure? Are you all right in there?" A wheedling, pitiful whine bled through the wood. It prickled the hairs on the back of his neck; she sounded downright _miserable_. He could faintly hear her whimpering within, and the bed groaning as she tossed and turned. Mashirao thoughtfully chewed on the inside of his cheek. _Just barging in is rude, but she sounds like she's in a lot of pain… The proper thing to do is check on her, right?_ He tried the doorknob, and it turned with no resistance. "Hagakure, I'm coming in." 

The room was shrouded in darkness; Tooru's thick curtains were drawn over the window, blotting out the light from the night sky. Mashirao wrinkled his nose at the acrid scent of sweat staining the air. "Hagakure?" He called softly. Her bed was a mass of blankets and sheets and pillows, tangled and disarrayed. The lump of cloth wriggled a bit, and a muffled, pained moan sounded from within the mass. "You okay?"

"No," she whimpered in response. Mashirao spied several empty water bottles on the ground and a half-empty one on her nightstand. He plodded closer to see a small, aluminum dish filled with generic fever reducers and pain relievers. His eyes swept to the bed as it wiggled some more, and her head popped up. The only way he knew it was her head was because of the damp dishcloth draped over her invisible forehead. "I'm on my period."

Mashirao's cheeks turned the color of the Tylenol pills in the dish. Mashirao only had marginal experience with girls; of course, he knew what a period _was_ and that they were extraordinarily unpleasant, but… That was _it_. Coughing uncomfortably, he scratched at the scrubby blonde hairs at the nape of his neck. 

"Oh," he said simply. He frowned as Tooru whimpered again and wound the thick comforter between her fingers. Dark patches of discoloration appeared in the imprint of her sweaty hands. "Is there anything I can do to help?" He inquired gently. 

"I feel bad," she pouted. "Ochako and Momo and Mina have been offering all weekend to stay with me, but… That's not fair. I can manage all right! Please go enjoy yourself with the others."

"I'll stay with you if that's what you want. I can't enjoy myself knowing you're suffering up here all alone." He couldn't see her expression, but he fancied that a relieved smile formed on her lips. The mountain of pillows and blankets wobbled as she adjusted her position to clear a space on the bed. Mashirao would've been quite content to just lounge in her desk chair, but he couldn't refuse the ailing girl when she invitingly patted the empty mattress beside her. The tip of his tail twitched uncomfortably as a blush alit his cheeks; nevertheless, he climbed into the bed. He exhaled shakily as he reclined against the headboard with a pillow tucked under the small of his back and crossed his legs, winding his thick tail around his middle. He blushed darker when he felt Tooru snuggle up to him. 

The bed dipped where her weight concentrated, forming the outline of her curvy figure. The bedsheets were damp with her perspiration, and Mashirao could feel her body heat seeping into the areas where they were in contact. He could even feel the quiver in her feverish body. _I will never let any of the guys make period jokes again,_ he resolved solemnly. "Here, Hagakure, cover up," he said while pulling the sheets up over where he thought her shoulders might be. He raised an eyebrow when he spotted a familiar pattern peeking out of the folds of the thick down comforter. He felt the invisible girl squirm as he gently tugged it out to reveal one of his missing tees. 

"... Hagakure, am I going to find my two other missing shirts and my missing hoodie in this bed?"

"... Mayyyyybe," came the meek reply. He smiled amusedly as Tooru squealed and slapped her invisible hands to her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Ojiro! I-I just… I felt good enough to grab a glass of milk last night and passed the laundry room, and the detergent smelled soooo good, and… one thing kinda led to another…" 

Ojiro smirked and spun the tee shirt by the collar around his index finger. Denki and Sero were always complimenting his mountain breeze-scented laundry detergent. "I'm sorry… I get weirdly sentimental on my period," the girl sniffed in mortification. Ojiro shrugged and dropped the tee-shirt on her head, making her squeak.

"It's no big deal. I think it's really cute."

"You don't think it's creepy?" she asked shyly as she pulled the shirt from her head and hugged it to her chest. 

"Nah," he reassured her and rested his arms behind his head. "I mean, what kind of guy would I be to deny a girl so clearly in need? I can handle a few missing clothes." She giggled girlishly and huddled back down within the mound of blankets. She inhaled deeply, no doubt savoring the earthy scent wafting around the freshly-cleaned article of clothing. 

"Thanks, Ojiro." He leisurely nodded and settled himself further against the headboard. He glanced down when Tooru abruptly whimpered and screwed her fingers into his side. He ignored the excruciating pain in his intercostal muscles to ask her what was the matter. "Ah, sorry… Cramps," she groaned. The wet rag flopped onto his belly as she pressed her head into his abdomen. He soothingly stroked her back through her thin tank top while stretching his arm out to fumble for the bottled water and painkillers. 

"Here, take these," he instructed while uncapping the water and handing her two pills. He heard her sigh gratefully as she downed the two tablets and drained the rest of the water. She tossed the bottle onto the floor with the others before draping herself back over his middle, whimpering. 

"A uterus is a curse." Mashirao chuckled and began palming soothing circles between her shoulder blades.

"I certainly don't envy you."

"Ojiro, you're really sweet," she said suddenly, making him blush. He wondered if her hormones were raging out control again, and she was growing sappy. He felt her head roll on his chest to look up at him. "You're gonna make a great boyfriend one day." He began sputtering out words with no idea of the sentence he wanted to form, his entire face red from the tips of his ears to the column of his neck. Tooru giggled and shifted so that she propped up beside him. "You know… You could be _my_ great boyfriend." 

"Have I given you too many Ibuprofen?!" He cried and snatched up the bottle to check the dose limit and the side effects, because surely the drugs were making her loopy. Tooru laughed giddily and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, and he set the useless bottle aside. 

"I'm serious! You're so kind," she sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. He gulped audibly and tugged at the collar of his shirt, unbearably hot all of a sudden. Her fingers curled into the golden waves of his blonde hairs to wind the strands around. "You've made me feel a lot better, and… I've liked you for a long time." Mashirao smiled sheepishly and looked out of the corners of his eyes at her invisible face. 

"Well, if we're being honest here, everything about you is cute- not just nabbing my shirts.” She snorted piggishly and, in her giddiness, cuddled further into him. Feeling a little more confident, he snaked his arm around her waist, marveling how small it was compared to his muscled arm. 

"So is that a 'yes'?" 

"How about we let dinner next Friday night decide that?" He laughed as she playfully slapped his chest. 

"So _smooth_! Look at you." Mashirao grinned and played with the sheets. _Looks like listening to Denki and Hanta debate dating advice paid off after all…_ Tooru sighed contentedly and, once more, pressed her face into the side of his neck. Her warm breath puffed over his skin, gentle and comforting. "... Hey."

"What?"

"Can we start the boyfriend-girlfriend thing early so you can get me a bowl of ice cream? <3" He snorted haughtily, but his true feelings were betrayed by the adoring smile stretching over his face. 

"Sure. Chocolate or vanilla?"


	17. Tiny Terror

Category: General Fluff

Characters: Hitoshi Shinso

Hitoshi scowled when pounding rain, not pleasant sunshine, greeted him as he strolled through the glass doors of the convenience store. The small fabric awning shielded him from most of the onslaught, but the sheer volume of water falling from the sky was inescapable; the canvas overhead bulged with pooling rainwater, and a sheet of fat droplets cascaded from its edge. The force of the drops propelled them inward, leading them to splatter over the soft cloth of his white tee-shirt. Beyond the waterfall streaming from the awning, puddles blossomed in the streets, rippling with the continuous rainfall. 

_When on Earth did this storm blow in?_ he wondered with a weary sigh. He tossed the plastic bag of canned coffees and mochi snacks over his shoulder while using his other hand to scratch the tufts of his lavender hair thoughtfully. The weather report hadn't predicted a rainstorm, so Hitoshi had neglected to bring an umbrella. It wasn't a terribly long walk back to the U.A. dorms, but in this deluge, he would be drenched within ten seconds. He pouted up at the cloud-choked sky. _There's nothing for it. I'll have to wait it out,_ he decided. He walked to the large glass window and eased himself down on the sill, pushing aside a small flowerpot of violets to make himself comfortable, then pulled out his phone to scroll through his social media feed.

"Bah," he mumbled. Ninety percent of the posts refused to load. The convenience store wasn't a dead zone, so he surmised that the torrential downpour deadened the signal. He closed out of the app and shoved his phone into his back pocket, then disinterestedly stared out into the street. Despite the storm, people were still strolling out and about. The air thrummed with splashing water and the smacking of raindrops against the rubber umbrellas. Occasionally a car would zoom by and throw up an impressive arc of the dirty rain puddles, sending it washing over the sidewalk like a great wave. When the car was going fast enough, the sloshing water would kiss the tips of Hitoshi's Converse. 

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow as a little mew drifted into his ears. The lavender-haired boy searched for the source of the sound, but there was no animal in sight. He began to wonder if he had imagined it until another tiny meow floated out of the alleyway on the side of the building. Hitoshi eased off of the windowsill to creep along the brick wall, not wishing to startle whatever little creature was voicing its opposition to the pounding rain. His eyes widened, and he blinked confusedly when all that greeted him was a big green dumpster and some sodden flyers that had blown in from the street. Just as he was about to turn around and resume his perch, the mew sounded again. He glanced down at his feet. 

"Oh. Well, hello there." The sodden white kitten toddled on its unsteady legs to paw at the equally white front of his shoes, then raised its bobbling head to meow curiously at him. Hitoshi grinned and squatted down to observe the wee creature. It was incredibly small, most likely too young to survive without its mother. "Where's your mom, little one?" The kitten responded with another miserable mew. "Gone, huh?" He concluded and peered down the empty alleyway. He spotted no mass of fur, nor any nook or cranny a mother cat could hide. "Unless some cruel person dumped you here," he muttered angrily under his breath.

Hitoshi glanced down when the stumbly kitten thumped its head against the hem of his jeans, leaving a circle of dark blue smudged with brown behind. The water streaming down the small incline of the alleyway crashed against the kitten's stubby thin legs, making it stagger and wobble in the current. It whined and jumped on its back two legs to sink its tiny, needle-like claws into the jean fabric and steady itself in the speedy flow. Hitoshi chuckled and gently rubbed its wet tummy, displacing the clumpy sodden fur. "Whatever the case, you're a long way from home, huh?" The kitten meowed sadly. 

"First things first, let's get you outta this rain," Hitoshi smiled and plucked the kitten up by the scruff to cup it in his palm. The corner of the awning shielded them some, but the ferocity of the pounding rain and bubbling current from the overflow dampened them both. Hitoshi kicked his feet annoyedly when he realized his socks were soaked through with the dirty water, and similarly, the kitten shook itself. Hitoshi smirked as tiny little water droplets spattered down his front, leaving coffee-brown dirt stains behind. "You little asshole," he laughed and used his index finger to scratch it under the chin. The baby cat began to rumble with a thundering purr and tilted it's head back so Hitoshi could pet all along the column of its throat. 

Hitoshi cupped the cat to his chest and returned to his perch on the windowsill. Now subject to the breezy wind, the little thing was beginning to shiver terribly. Hitoshi shrugged off his jacket and set the kitten down on his lap to wrap the thick cloth around its body several times. The kitten's head poked above the mound of material, sniffing the dark fabric with its small pink nose. "What do I smell like? Coffee? Mochi? Exhaustion?" He joked. The kitten meowed matter-of-factly and gripped the metal zipper in its pin-needle teeth, tugging on it fiercely and growling. "What a tiny little terror you are. First, you splash me, and now you try to destroy my jacket after I'm kind enough to give it to you." The cat stopped yanking on the metal piece and blinked up at him with big blue eyes. "Yeah, little man, I'm talking to _you_." 

The cat went back to terrorizing his jacket zipper. 

Ignoring the squirming cat warming up on his lap, Hitoshi glanced out at the street. The rain was letting up; it was dripping more slowly from the overhang, allowing him to see more of the road and stores across the street. The puddles rippled more peacefully, as smaller drops caused less of a disturbance. People were venturing out from within the shops to jog quickly to their cars or destinations. Squinting, Hitoshi glanced up at the sky; what were once ash-gray clouds were lightening to a light hue, and spears of sunlight punched through their wispy frames to beam down to the earth. Puddles of light began to appear alongside the water puddles, golden and warm and bright. 

"Well, what am I going to do with you?" Hitoshi wondered aloud and glanced back down at the kitten. It was now purring loudly, near-asleep, and staring at Hitoshi with bleary squinty eyes. Smiling, the lavender-haired boy softly stroked the patch of fur between its ears, and its purring jumped in volume. The kitten then yawned, flexing its pink sandpaper tongue and squeezing its eyes shut. When it finished, it smacked its lips and stuck out a little paw to nudge at his finger. Hitoshi smiled at the flash of its small pink pads when it wound around his middle finger and pulled his hand across the bunched-up jacket so it could snuggle into his palm. "I guess there's nothing for it…" he sighed and used his phone to snap a picture. He sent it to the Class 2-A group chat. 

** Me ** **: I've made a friend. His name is Tiny Terror.**

** Ochako ** **: T. T. for short! He's adorable. :D**

** Fumikage ** **: He doesn't inspire much terror just looking at him.**

** Eijirou ** **: Tokoyami, I can see you grinning from here. You think he's cute, don't you?**

** Fumikage ** **: Be quiet! >:(**

** Tenya ** **: You are NOT bringing that home.**

** Denki ** **: He's got a name, RUDE. Come on, Iida! If you ask nicely I'm sure Hitoshi'll let you hold him.**

** Tenya ** **: That's beside the point!**

** Tooru ** **: He's so small! Did you rescue him from the rain, Hitoshi? How admirable~ \^u^/**

** Momo ** **: I have some cream I can give him!**

** Izuku ** **: I saw some DIY cat toy recipes on YouTube the other day! Let me find them.**

** Mina ** **: Why were you looking at DIY cat toy videos?**

** Izuku ** **: … I like to see the kitties play with them… >///<**

** Ochako ** **: Aw, Deku, that's so cute!**

** Tenya ** **: Why are we still discussing this? I said NO! Put him back!**

** Kyoka ** **: Wow, way to be heartless. >.> **

** Katsuki ** **: No one cares about your "orders," Four-Eyes.**

** Tenya ** **: You guys are mean. :( … He is cute, I'll grant you that much.**

His phone continued to ping with message notifications as the group discussed the newest addition to their lives. The rain was but a sprinkle now- certainly manageable enough to trot back to the dorms. Hitoshi bundled the tiny cat in his arms and stood up. The kitten peered up at him and meowed fearfully. 

"Don't worry," he smiled kindly and bopped his little pink nose with a fingertip, " _we're going home._ "


	18. Midnight Munchies

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Izuku Midoriya

Requested By: Anonymous User 

Izuku fidgeted in the bed as he slowly lapsed into consciousness. He smacked his lips, finding them dry and cracked; similarly, the plane of his tongue was an arid desert. _Water,_ he thought dully. Still blinking away the bleariness of sleep, he fumbled with unsteady fingers to pull the comforter from his sweaty body. It seemed that he had fallen asleep without the ceiling fan running, and thus, heat smothered the room. 

Izuku yawned as he languidly slipped off the bed like a boneless fish. He wriggled his feet into his slippers and pulled the switch as he passed underneath the overhead fan; what good would retrieving water do if he just got thirsty thirty minutes later? 

Izuku shambled into the restroom. Izuku had no care to be blinded, so he utilized his primitive night eyesight to grope around until he located the plastic cup he kept beside the faucet. He flipped the tap and bubbling, and lukewarm water gushed forth. Izuku filled the cup halfway and then downed it in one gulp, then did so twice more. He smacked his lips again, feeling moisture return to the parched skin. He lumbered out of the bathroom to collapse face-first into his bed. Then, his stomach flip-flopped in his belly. He grimaced as a long gurgling rumbled in his tummy. 

“Snack…” he muttered aloud. He peered at the All Might alarm clock seated on his bedside table. The bright yellow numbers read 1:47 a.m. He pushed his hand under his shirt to scratch his abdomen, debating whether to sneak downstairs to acquire sustenance or snuggle back under the covers to see if sleep would claim him before he starved. 

His yowling stomach decided for him. 

The stairs creaked with every hulking step the sleepy Izuku took; they were clearly displeased at their stair-business being interrupted at such ungodly hours of the morning on account of his midnight munchies. The soft moonlight spilled in from the row of glass windows decorating the hallway, casting an ethereal white glow over the floor and furniture. His shadow danced along the polished wood as he shuffled into the kitchen. Izuku rummaged through the various cabinets, picking up a box to blearily inspect the label before deciding against it, before he finally settled on some animal crackers. The bag crinkled as he shoved his hand into the small opening, and he grabbed an entire handful of the sweet cookies before unceremoniously shoving them into his mouth. 

“Yum,” he mumbled to himself, cheeks poofed out like a squirrel’s and crumbs raining from his lips. Munching loudly on the dozen cookies crammed into his mouth, he meandered around the common space, leaving a trail of animal cracker specks as he went. He stared out the window, watching the wind toss about the tree branches and bush leaves whose emerald green seemed blue in the gloom. He grabbed a carton of milk out of the fridge and guzzled a good fourth of it straight from the box, then shoved another handful of cookies into his mouth. He gazed at his hazy-eyed reflection in the flat-screen television, regarding his tousled hair and lidded eyes, before turning on his heel to begin shambling to the couch. 

He froze on the spot, mouth open to reveal half-eaten animal crackers when he spotted Ochako Uraraka sprawled over the sofa in a position that looked way to uncomfortable for how pleasantly she was snoring. 

One of her legs was slung over the back, bent at the knee with her foot hanging down. The other hung off the edge of the couch so that her foot was flat on the floor. One arm was bent over her head like she was cradling it, and somehow the other was stretched out to bridge the gap between the sofa and the coffee table. Her hand clutched a half-eaten milk chocolate bar. Her mouth hung open as she snored contentedly, and drool puddled on the throw pillow as it leaked out of her mouth. Izuku stared at her for a moment. Then, he snickered. 

“Cute,” he thought aloud. He walked closer and set the box of animal crackers on the coffee table, pausing to use his pajama shirt sleeves to wipe the white crumbs from his mouth. In her violent tossing and turning, Ochako had flung the blanket from her body. It was now but a useless bundle of cloth at her feet. Izuku gently tugged it from underneath her splayed limbs and draped it over his shoulder, then set to rearranging her into a more comfortable position. He flushed when she abruptly groaned and began to shift, and he froze, still holding her left leg above the couch. She only smacked her lips a few times and adjusted her head, exhaling deeply before falling back into deep, even breaths. Izuku slowly lowered her foot down onto the cushion, then threw the blanket over her body. 

“Here ya go, Ochako,” he murmured sweetly as he draped the blanket over her, settling it up to her chin. She had closed her mouth, and a pleasant smile now graced her round face. Izuku leaned over her as he tucked the blanket around her neck to ensure she wouldn’t so easily fling it off again. His face reddened, for he could feel her warm breath ghosting over his face. _Just finish this real quick annnnd…_ He couldn’t finish the thought, because suddenly Ochako’s eyes fluttered open. Before he could move, her face jerked up. 

Several comical things could have occurred, like they do in the movies. They could have bonked their foreheads together with a resounding _smack_! She could have flung him off completely so that he ended up a tangle of limbs crammed between the couch and coffee table. Hell, they could’ve had a full-on accidental kiss worthy of the cheesiest of shoujo mangas. 

Instead, here they were, with Izuku’s lips delicately pressed to the tip of Ochako’s nose. 

They both froze like deer in headlights. Seconds ticked by as the two of them processed the situation they were currently in. Slowly, realization dawned on them, and identical blushes began to creep up their necks. The flush spread up to the roots of their hairs. 

Crimson-faced, they sprang away from each other with shrill screams. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he sputtered as he scampered several feet away from her, one leg flailed up by his chest, and both his arms crossed in front of his bright red face. “I was… I was just fixing the blanket!” he explained with a frantic gesture at the cloth. Ochako blinked a few times, then glanced down at the fabric now surrounding her. 

“O-oh! I see,” she squeaked after several seconds of silence. She shifted under the blanket, drawing it around her. “Th-thank you, Izuku.” The green-haired boy spluttered out something along the lines of “no problem.” He twiddled his fingers by his sides as silence descended between them once more. He cleared his throat and then awkwardly lunged for the box of animal crackers still resting on the coffee table. Ochako raised her eyebrows. “Midnight snack?” she laughed. Izuku flushed pink. 

“Y-yeah,” he chuckled bashfully, playing with the curly hairs at the base of his neck. After retrieving a few of the animal-shaped cookies from the box, he held it out to Ochako. “Y-ya want some?” The bubbly brunette nodded and scooched over to the end of the couch to reach out and snag a few. Instead of just shoving them in her mouth to devour like Izuku did, she daintily bit the cookie in half, nibbling at it with her front teeth. She gazed wide-eyed at him when he began to giggle. 

“What?” 

“Y-you’re just really cute, is all…” he admitted shyly. A rosy hue flowered on her face, and she dropped the cookies in her hands to slap her hands to her cheeks. He squeaked and ducked down to hide behind the recliner, the closest object large enough to hide his small frame. “I-I’m sorry!” 

“No! I-I mean, why are you apologizing?” Ochako asked bashfully, winding a swathe of her chestnut hair around her finger. She stared out of the bottom right corners of her eyes as a little smile alighted her features. “I-i mean… I-it’s nice, to be called cute, y’know?” Izuku blinked at her over the top of the large chair. She twiddled her thumbs anxiously as she squirmed. “Y-you know… The nose kiss wasn’t so bad either,” she offered slowly. Izuku’s green eyes blew wide, like two emerald moons floating in white space. Ochako turned bright pink and shoved her face into her hands. “O-oh my! Was that weird? Omigosh, I don’t know what came over me; I’m just super sleepy, hahaaaa!” she blabbed as she attempted to dismiss the strange remark. Slowly, Izuku rose from behind the armchair. 

“Well… I could… I could do it again, i-if you like,” he whispered. Though he wanted nothing more than to crouch back down and bury his body underneath the inch of space between the recliner and the floor, he held fast, swallowing as he stared intensely at the shocked girl. Ochako’s lips drew into a thin line as she considered the opportunity. 

“Okay,” she squeaked. Like an edgy house cat advancing on a strange new object, Izuku crept around the furniture to gradually approach her. Ochako gulped audibly and compulsively straightened as he stopped in front of her. Izuku flopped backward to sit on the edge of the coffee table. He inhaled sharply through his nose and rubbed his hands together, psyching himself up for the little kiss. _Come on, Izuku. Just do it already._

“O-okay. Here it comes!” Izuku huffed, then went bright red, cursing himself for the silly statement. Thankfully, Ochako only rolled her shoulders once before fluttering her eyes and tilting back her head to present her nose to him. Izuku wiggled his fingers relentlessly, not sure what to do with his hands, before deciding to grip the edge of the coffee table as he leaned forward. Quickly, and without any more fanfare, he leaned in to press a light kiss to the top of Ochako’s nose. He jerked back after holding it for a second, his face reminiscent of a tomato’s hue. “Uh… um… How was that?” he asked stupidly. 

“It was nice,” she answered honestly, opening her eyes to smile brightly at him. Izuku deflated like a balloon, a relieved sigh escaping from his lungs. Ochako hesitated a second, then quietly asked, “D-do you want one?” 

“Oh, absolutely!” He realized that he was far too enthusiastic and turned a lovely shade of maroon. Ochako snickered before plopping her palms against his cheek, squishing the flesh a little. She leaned up to lightly peck his nose with her lips. A tingling feeling bloomed in the area, propagating across his entire nervous system, down to the tips of his fingers and toes. He couldn’t help the giddy, toothy grin that appeared on his face as she retreated. “Wow, that _does_ feel pretty nice.” 

“ _What_ are you two doing?” 

The pair of them screamed and leaped two feet in the air as Mr. Aizawa’s disgruntled growl scared them out of their skins. The teacher slouched in the hallway, shining his phone flashlight on the two students. They both began stuttering nonsense and pointing in various directions, but Aizawa just glared at them, unimpressed. Izuku finally plucked up the box of animal crackers and thrust it at the teacher. 

“I-I had the munchies!” he explained lamely. Aizawa’s dark eyebrows narrowed. 

“Stop flirting and _go to bed_!” 

“Yes, sir! Right away, sir!” Izuku shrieked and scurried away from the couch. Ochako followed, the blanket flowing like a cap behind her running form. They bolted for the stairs, terrified that Aizawa stamped behind them, and scrambled up to the landing together. “Wait, wait, wait, Ochako!” he cried and grabbed her by the wrist as she made to flee to her room. Grinning mischievously, he yanked her forward to kiss her nose again. 

“Izuku Midoriya, _so help me_ , if you do not get in your bed _right now_ , you will be on house arrest for a _week_!” 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Aizawa!” he yelled and sprang away from Ochako to clamber on all fours up the stairs. He vaguely heard Ochako shout “goodnight, Izuku!” after him, and he fancied her tone to be airily blissful. He dashed into his room and threw the door shut. Exhaling deeply, he melted against the wood, standing there for a few moments to still his pounding heart. 

Yet, it didn’t still completely. Every time Izuku thought of Ochako and her gleeful smile, his heart would resume pumping with gusto. He passed his fingers over the tip of his nose, recalling the sensation of Ochako’s plump lips. He still clutched the box of animal crackers in his hands. Smirking, he rolled the bag closed and sealed the container, then tossed it up in the air and caught it by the side. 

“Heh. Thank goodness for the midnight munchies.”


	19. Little Drummer Boy

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Nejiro Hado

Requested By: Triton0501 (FanFiction) 

"Congratulations on your victory, Nejire!" 

"Kyaaa! Nejire-senpai, you looked so beautiful during the pageant!" 

"Look! Look! It's Nejire Hado! Isn't she so pretty?" 

Nejire tried not to let her ego inflate after several days of hearing nothing but compliments and squeals wherever she walked. Alas, it was difficult not to feel at least a little pleased with so much positive attention! With a serene smile gracing her face and her chin primly raised, Nejire basked in the praise as she strolled through the halls of U.A. High School. As usual, Mirio and Tamaki accompanied her. Typically, the three hero hopefuls would retire to their dormitory or take to the town, but this day was a bit of a deviation. The three of them were headed to Class 1-A's dormitory to visit the rescued orphan, Eri. 

Normally Mirio would jaunt off to visit the girl by himself, but as of late, Nejire had been accompanying him as well. Being such a young and impressionable lady, Eri deserved a female role model whom she could approach for issues she may not be comfortable discussing with Mr. Aizawa, Izuku Midoriya, or Mirio. Though still a long way from her turbulent teens, a little girl Eri's age still possessed a plethora of girls' issues, like crushes and identity and the pros and cons of princesses, that Nejire was more equipped to handle. The boys were at least very willing to dress up in pink tutus and cram around Eri's tiny tea table for a bit of play-pretend. Nejire's mind soon became absorbed by the adorable little girl, and she quite forgot about all the big hullabaloo until Tamaki spoke. 

"E-everyone seems quite taken with you ever since the pageant," he said with that quivering frown that Nejire found charmingly adorable. She laughed daintily and flipped her periwinkle hair over a shoulder. 

"Yes, it's quite lovely! Though, I do wish they would show as much appreciation for the other contestants. I won, but everyone is deserving of praise!" she smiled radiantly. Nejire wanted to avoid all the compliments from rushing to her head, of course, but that didn't mean her statement was fluff. All those who participated were brave for putting themselves out there. Thus, she made a point to say so every once in a while just to remind people. 

"Yep, yep. Very true," Mirio quipped as he scrolled through his social media feed. The blonde's favorite pastime was brushing up on the latest hero news; he and Izuku often spiraled into in-depth, enthusiastic discussions about various articles. Nejire thought it quite endearing. Mirio suddenly stopped walking, frowning at his phone screen. Nejire peeked over his shoulder to blatantly read it, finding that he was texting Mr. Aizawa. 

"Aw! They're gonna be late?" Nejire pouted. She had been very much looking forward to painting Eri's nails, but it seemed Aizawa was hung up in a board meeting. He often took the child with him to his office hours and meetings; she needed a change of environment now and again. She usually sat at his feet, coloring the cat-themed coloring book Denki Kaminari had bought him for a joke. Mirio and Nejire had burst into laughter when they'd learned he'd kept it, for how else could he pass it on to the small girl? 

"Yup," Mirio frowned and closed out of the conversation. Tamaki frowned and began to fidget. 

"Sh-should we go to our dorms and wait for them?"

"Nah," Mirio shrugged and resumed his leisurely pace. "We're nearly there, so we can just bug the first-years until they arrive!"

"Ooh! Ooh! I call Bakugo!" Nejire trilled and lunged forward into a sprint. The volatile boy had caught Nejire's eye when she viewed the playbacks of the first-years' Sports Festival, but her interest had truly been piqued during class 1-A's musical performance at the recent school showcase. Nejire was simply _dying_ to converse with the boy, for he seemed like he would be so much fun to tease and coddle! Oh, she could imagine the blush alighting his scowling face already… 

_Teehee! He's such a cutie! I bet he's got that big tough exterior but is a total softie inside!_ she thought giddily, sticking out the tip of her tongue as she hopped up the steps of the dormitory. She pushed the doorbell buzzer, holding it for a few seconds, before unabashedly throwing the front door open. "Hellooooooo, everyonnnnne~" she sang jubilantly and spun on her foot with a flourish. Twenty pairs of eyes peeked at her from the common room couches. 

"O-oh! Nejire!" Izuku finally squeaked and hopped up from his seat in the armchair. Mirio and Tamaki had finally caught up, and so Izuku's pine green eyebrows crept further up his forehead. "Oh! You're _all_ here! Mr. Aizawa and Eri are hung up in a faculty meeting…" 

"We know!" Nejire smiled as she skipped over to the sofas, clasping her hands behind her back with a gleeful bounce of her body. "We were already here, though, so we thought we would check how our cutie-patooties are doing!" She giggled. Izuku flushed and fiddled with his fingers as he delved into anxious mumbles about training and grades. Mineta leaped from the couch to cling to her thigh, drooling, and Nejire discreetly flung him into the kitchen. No one seemed to react to his pained scream or the sound of several boxes tumbling on top of him. Beaming, Nejire raised her hands to press her fingertips together. "I was so very impressed with the concert you all put on! It was a smash hit!"

"Really? That's awesome!" The adorable little electric boy, Denki, grinned as he draped himself over the back of the couch. He nearly fainted when Nejire patted him cutely on the head. He was as much of a skirt-chaser as Mineta, but at least he had some sense of social etiquette and boundaries. 

"Mhmm!" Nejire nodded as she skirted the coffee table, blue eyes locked on a certain blond ignoring the conversation. With a disinterested frown, the boy tapped his phone screen repeatedly, obviously playing some sort of mobile game. " _In fact,_ I was _most_ impressed by your talented drummer!" She smiled. Katsuki's crimson eyes slowly drifted to her as she perched herself on the arm of the sofa closest to him. Daintily crossing her legs and resting her cheeks in her hands, she fluttered her eyelashes demurely. "I would be oh-so-honored if he could teach me how to play!"

Wearing a concerted frown, Tenya Iida leaned in to whisper in Mirio's ear, "Is she… _flirting_?"

"Nah. Nejire's just like that," the blonde shrugged nonchalantly. Then, a second later, he narrowed his eyes and frowned. "At least, I don't _think_ she's trying to flirt," he added uncertainly. Katsuki continued to glare silently at Nejire, while she just stared brightly back. 

"Can I help you?" The ash-blond growled gruffly. 

"I _said_ -" 

"I _heard_ what you said, Tinkerbell," Katsuki snarled, dropping his phone into his lap and sitting up to bring his face close to hers. Nejire did not retreat from his boldness, only smiled wider. 

"If you _heard_ me, then why'd you ask?" The corner of his mouth twitched, and she wasn't sure if he wanted to scowl or smirk. His red eyes traveled the planes of her face for a few brief seconds before he snorted seditiously and stood from the couch to start heading for his room. Nejire dourly pursed her lips, thinking him to be annoyed. She raised her eyebrows when he glowered over his shoulder at her. 

"Well? You comin' or not, Tinkerbell?"

Squealing with delight, Nejire hopped down from the couch and scampered after him. Her periwinkle hair swished behind her as she scuttled along, flashing Mirio and Tamaki a victorious wink as she passed them. The other first-years were in various stages of shock as they watched Katsuki lead Nejire upstairs. As she turned the corner of the landing, she heard Mina cry, "Pardon my French, but what the hell just _happened_?!" followed by Aoyama muttering, "That wasn't French." Nejire snickered and hopped up a few of the steps so that she walked in pace with the explosive blond. He clicked his tongue and glared at her out of his peripheral vision.

"What's that look for?" she inquired innocently.

"Enough of the cutesy act, Tinkerbell. What's your game?" Nejire blinked puzzledly. To be honest, she hadn't thought she would get this far; although flustering had been her initial motive, the new development certainly wasn't unwanted. Nejire loved to try new things, so her pleas to play the drums were honest. 

"There's no game!" she insisted with a serene smile. "I really was impressed by your skills and just want to try it out, that's all." Katsuki stared at her a moment, searching her face for a lie, but of course, he couldn't find one in her pretty visage. With a small _tch,_ he stopped to push open a door with a sign that read, " _Keep out or die!"_

"Whatever. Let's just get this over with." Trilling while she bundled past him, Nejire began messing with various things in his room. She found his All Might tee-shirt collection particularly cute. "Oi! Stop snoopin' in my closet and get over here!" He growled. She looked over her shoulder to find him hunched by the drum set in the corner of the room, pink-faced. He seemed equally embarrassed and irate, and it put an adorable little pout on his face. Obediently, Nejire dropped the tee-shirt she had been admiring to skip over. With pink cheeks, he gestured to the small stool seated among the large drums. "Well, go on." 

Nejire plopped down in the seat and picked up the sleek black drumsticks neatly laid over the set. She experimentally clacked them together a few times, remarking their thin yet sturdy structure. She then slammed one down on the cymbals, making Katsuki curse loudly and jump nearly a foot in the air. 

"I've always wanted to do that!" She beamed. The tapped the end of the drumstick lightly on one of the drums. The deep bass tune that followed made her eyes widen in admiration. "This is so cool!" she squealed and wriggled about on the seat. 

"You are remarkably easy to impress," Katsuki remarked with an amused smirk. "But come on, I said I was gonna show you how to play properly, so, shaddup and listen." His voice carried that hard edge that was notably Katsuki Bakugo, but it also possessed a soft undertone that hadn't been present before. Patiently, he instructed her through a simple beat, explaining to her when to push the pedals or strike the drums. She stumbled a few times, and though Katsuki would click his tongue and chastise her, it wasn't without a degree of amusement and affection. After some time, Nejire was able to play the tune with no guidance. She grinned animatedly as she drummed the sticks across the set to produce a joyful, energetic sound, finishing it off with a strike of the cymbals. 

"Ahaha! Look at me!" She squealed. Katsuki leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed and smirking warmly. She whirled in the chair to smile brightly at him. "Thank you! It was enjoyable!" A pink haze rose to his cheeks, and he scratched at the stubby hairs at the base of his neck. 

"Not like I had much choice. You woulda relentlessly nagged me about it." The words seemed harsh, but the delivery cushioned the angry connotation with soft fondness. A smile tugged upwards on the corners of Katsuki's lips. _I think he really enjoyed this too!_ she thought giddily and hopped up from the chair. 

"Yup! I sure would have." 

"Pushy, aren't'cha, Tinkerbell?" She smiled and pushed one of her cheeks inward with her index finger. 

"Yep! That's me, Little Drummer Boy!" Katsuki bristled at the ad-libbed nickname.

"Oi! Who're you callin' 'little'?" Nejire ignored his fuming to resume poking around his room, poring over his surprisingly articulate class notes and flipping through the channels on his radio-slash-alarm clock. Katsuki followed her around the room, scowling and loudly chastising her, but he made no physical move to stop her. It was only when she wriggled into one of his hoodies that he actually questioned her. "I showed you the drums, so why're you still here?" He whined while tugging on the hood of the jacket in an attempt to tease it off her shoulders. Nejire slid her arms out of it and darted to his desk, picking up a pencil and putting it atop her pursed lips like a mustache. 

"I'm trying to kill the boredom waiting for Eri, and you're very entertaining!" she explained while twisting the end of the pencil like a cheesy comic book villain. Katsuki scowled and plopped down on the edge of his bed. 

"Oh, _that's_ nice. So I'm Tinkerbell's little _toy_ , huh?" Nejire blinked and let the pencil fall to the floor, surprised by his tone of loathing and hurt. 

"No, of course not! You're my friend, right?" He stared up at her, taken aback. Nejire beamed and skipped over to throw herself down on the bed beside him. She laid on her stomach with her heels kicked up over her back. She plucked at some of the fuzzy fibers on his comforter. "I like you!" The bold and unabashed statement made his cheeks flush red. "I think you're interesting, so I want to get to know you. The perfect opportunity has presented itself, that's all." She rolled onto her side, holding up her head with a hand. "Teasing you is just part of the fun! <3"

"You're a diabolical woman," Katsuki snorted, but Nejire was relieved to see that the tension had melted from his shoulders, and that snarky smile was back on his face. The blue-haired girl giggled and stuck out her tongue playfully. She then whined loudly when he pinched the end of it between his thumb and forefinger. 

"Nnnh! Nnh! Le' go, Ka'suki! T'at feelth weird!" she protested, shaking her head back and forth a little. Katsuki laughed loudly and tugged on the pink organ.

"Ha! Not so fun when the tables are turned on you, huh?" he chided playfully. Nejire slapped at his biceps and shoulder with another keening whine. After another tug, he released her. She wiped away the drool that had pooled in the corner of her mouth. 

"You big meanie!"

"I'm only givin' ya a taste of your own medicine, Tinkerbell!" he shot back, grinning challengingly. His cry was muffled when Nejire grabbed his pillow and whacked him in the face with it. Hurriedly, she tried to scramble from the bed and flee, but he yanked her back by her ankle and made her belly-flop to the floor. She giggled piercingly when he lobbed the pillow at the back of her head. "You're a _handful_! How do those two put _up_ with you?" 

"They find me charming and endearing!" She answered as she hugged the pillow and rolled onto her belly. Katsuki rolled his eyes and lounged back against his headboard with his hands behind his head, ignoring the sheets Nejire had tousled in her escape attempt. 

"You're like a toddler." 

"You're still putting up with me, though!" A blush rose to his cheeks, and he chittered his teeth, gaze sliding away from her. Still snuggling the pillow, Nejire jumped up and glanced at the clock on his bedside table. "I betcha Eri and Mr. Aizawa are here now!" She said and unceremoniously tossed the pillow at Katsuki. He caught it with a surprised look. "Can I come back again to learn more about the drums, Little Drummer Boy?"

"Uh, sure, but-" he began as she ran to his bedroom door to throw it open. She paused when he shouted at her to wait. Blinking, she stood in the threshold. He tossed the pillow aside and crawled off the bed to walk towards her. He hesitated for a moment, grimacing, before he reached up to gently tuck a piece of her periwinkle hair behind her ear. "... See ya around, Tinkerbell," he muttered in a small voice. His face burned red as he trained his gaze on his sneakers. 

"Teehee! See ya later!" she smiled and, on a whim, leaned in to peck him on the cheek. He sputtered a surprised obscenity and jerked back, pinwheeling his arms. He lost his balance and landed on his rump. His face burned the crimson color of his eyes, and he held his palm to the cheek she had kissed. "Toodles~" Nejire trilled jovially and flashed him a wink before skipping off down the hall. She hummed contentedly as she jaunted down the stairs; she was quite pleased with the way everything had turned out. Now, however, she was switching gears to big sister mode. She had come here to play with Eri, after all! 

_Still,_ she thought with a coy smile and a glance up the steps, _I definitely wouldn't mind coming back to see Bakugo again sometime soon! I **knew** he was a big ol' softie! _

She retrieved the bottle of nail polish she had tucked into her uniform pocket just as she rounded the stairs to see Eri running up to Izuku and Mirio. _But first, very important business to attend to!_

_Sorry, Little Drummer Boy! You'll have to wait your turn!_


	20. Rivalry

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya

_Warning! Spoilers ahead for My Hero Academia: Heroes Rising!_

Everything hurt, but his arms especially. An agonized moan spilled from his lips before he even registered the action. As he lapsed into consciousness, the first thing he became aware of was the excruciating pulsing pain in his arms. It felt like they were submerged in lava, just melting away all the layers of skin until his bones relented too and crumbled into ashes. Katsuki never cried, but despite his pride, a few tormented tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes to roll down his cheeks. _It hurts… It hurts so fucking much,_ he whined silently. For a few minutes, all he knew was that awful pain; no reality, no thought, nothing but the sharp pulsing of his destroyed tissue and nerves. Slowly, slowly, he realized that he lay on his back in refreshing grass.

Though the action pained him, Katsuki forced his eyes open just a sliver. His red eyes peeked out from beneath ash-blond lashes to behold the sky. The roiling gray clouds drifted on the trade winds, coasting away from the island. _That’s right. Nabu island. Nine. Deku…!_ The memories clapped into his mind like lightning, sending a searing pain striking through his brain tissue. Katsuki keened and kicked his legs at the unbearable sensation. The heels of his boots dug into the earth, pushing it up into mounds as he scored trenches into the damp dirt. He remembered everything- his classmates and their valiant effort to subdue the supervillain, the children’s heroic last stand, he and Izuku fighting side-by-side, and…

Katsuki’s vermilion eyes snapped open. _One for All._

There was no room for disbelief in his mind. Izuku had really passed on the Quirk to him. He could feel the electric energy of all who had come before simmering in his cells, humming just beneath the surface, waiting to be called forth. Their voices whispered in his eardrums, speaking of glory and valor and sacrifice. _No,_ he begged them. _I don’t want it. Not like this. Not like this!_

A whimper from beside him caught his attention. Katsuki bit down hard on his bottom lip, knowing that turning his neck would send ribbons of pain shooting down his likely fractured spine. There was another whimper followed by a high-pitched groan. _Just do it, pussy,_ he growled to himself. With a stubborn grunt, he wrenched his head to the left in one swift motion. His jaw then clenched tight as the shooting pain bloomed down his spinal column. A piercing scream was torn from his throat despite his efforts to swallow it. His vision blurred for a few moments, but he could still discern a smudge of pine-green hair and a ripped green-and-black hero costume.

“ _Deku_ ,” Katsuki croaked. Izuku’s form gradually came into focus. The boy’s chest rose and fell with ragged, laborious breaths, and his eyes scrunched up in pain. Dirt and bruises and smudges of blood littered his face. Blood dripped from the holes of his costume. Katsuki assumed he fared similarly, based on the dull aching pulsing in every part of his body. Katsuki called Izuku’s nickname again, but the boy did not stir. If Katsuki couldn’t see his chest moving, he genuinely would’ve wondered if he was dead.

Katsuki’s crimson eyes swept the length of Izuku’s ragged form. The way his rival rested so stilly caused a visceral reaction in Katsuki; his throat constricted as sobs threatened to spill forth, and his lips wobbled as tears stung his eyes again. Despite his arms being mangled and broken, he still forced the shredded muscles to move so that he could raise a hand and touch Deku’s face. As his purple, broken finger brushed over the linear scrape on the other boy’s cheek, lightning-fire pain blasted through his over-sensitive nerves. That wasn’t what finally made the tears spill down his cheeks, though.

No, it was the fact that now, Izuku could _never_ be a hero.

“You fucking _idiot_ ,” he cursed, voice cracking with raw emotion. “ _You’re an idiot, Deku_!” he then shouted. “Why’d you _do_ that, huh? You should’ve used that big stupid _brain_ of yours to think of something _better_!” Yelling wouldn’t awaken the unconscious boy; Katsuki knew that. It didn’t make him feel any better, either. One for All pulsed in his cells, as if to admonish his scolding. “It’s not _fair,_ ” Katsuki whimpered. He no longer had the strength to hold up his arm, and it flopped down next to Izuku’s cheek, his fingers tangling into the sweaty, dusty fibers of his green hair. “He was gonna be a _hero._ ”

The gray clouds parted further, spilling sunshine down upon the pair of young hero hopefuls. The light bathed Izuku’s face with a soft white glow, making him seem so innocent and angelic; meanwhile, Katsuki lay in mottled darkness, like a thief observing the victim of his crimes. That’s what he felt like- a _thief._ Izuku had offered him the Quirk in a rash, stupid, desperate decision, and Katsuki knew deep down that if he had refused, they would’ve died, and Nine would’ve succeeded to possibly become an even more dangerous villain than All for One. He _knew_ that, yet his heart still ached to share a body with the Quirk. _I stole it,_ he grieved. _I stole Deku’s future._

A sudden anger flared in his body. “ _No_ ,” he snarled aloud. His spine cracked as he shifted, straining his battered limb to grope around for Izuku’s hand. Every flop of his palm against the soft grass felt like a hundred knives stabbing him at once; yet, he just clenched his teeth until they threatened to shatter and continued searching. Finally, he found Izuku’s left hand. He grasped it tight, making the tendons and ligaments of his arm and shoulder wail in anguish, and pressed the small nick of his finger against the one on Izuku’s.

“You don’t get to fucking do this, asshole,” he hissed at the slumbering boy. Katsuki could feel his consciousness fading; fog drifted into the corners of his mind, and the outer edges of his vision fuzzed black. “You and I still have a lot of fighting to do. I’m gonna beat you to number-one hero, fair and square, and I can only do that if you _take this goddamn Quirk back_!” Their blood mixed in the small cuts. In another time, in another life, perhaps they could be friends taking the oath of eternal brotherhood. Maybe, in the back of his mind, that’s what Katsuki was doing in _this_ life. Everything floated in dark water as his consciousness phased in and out. _Please,_ he begged his tortured body. _Just a little more time…_

“Give it back,” he whispered. “Give it back to him. I can’t lose him- my rival… my _friend_.” Katsuki didn’t know if his effort would succeed, and if it did, if he would lose his own Quirk in the passing. At the moment, he could care less. Katsuki could become a hero without a Quirk just fine; he would do it out of spite. One for All was everything to Izuku. It was his life, his faith, his _dream._ After how far they had both come, Katsuki couldn’t steal Izuku’s dream. _He just couldn’t._

“Please, I beg of you…” he pleaded with the invisible force inside of him. His lips curled upwards into a smirk as he felt the familiar hum in his cells of the Quirk activating. A woman laughed amiably within his mind.

_You care a lot about him, don’t you?_

“Don’t you ever tell him, lady, or you and I will have words,” he warned. The woman’s jovial laughter echoed in his skull again. When Izuku had gifted him the power, Katsuki had felt the oddest sensation of warm energy flooding his body, starting at his finger and spreading outwards. This time, he felt the opposite. It felt like all the warmth was being siphoned from him, leaving him cold and exposed. Izuku’s right arm ignited with red streaks like lightning as the Quirk returned to him.

 _Don’t worry. We’ll take care of him,_ several voices chimed in Katsuki’s head. He flopped against the ground with relief, and a shaky laugh rumbled in his lungs.

“You’d better,” he rasped as his eye began to drift shut. The clouds had parted completely now, bearing the full brunt of the sun. Katsuki’s skin basked in the warm glow of the sunshine washing over him; it felt like someone draping a cozy fleece blanket over his body. Just as his vision flooded with darkness and numbness began to creep up from his toes, he murmured, “Because I’m gonna give him hell until he’s the _best_ hero he can be.”

Distantly, he felt Izuku stir beside him and whisper, “Kacchan?” The boy’s hand squirmed against Katsuki’s own, and so with the remaining dregs of his strength, Katsuki gave it a firm squeeze.

“Don’t worry. I’m here… _Izuku._ ”


	21. Time of Need

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Tsuyu Asui, Fumikage Tokoyami

Requested By: AnAnonymousMouse (Ao3)

Tsuyu’s eyes watered at the sharp stinging sensation burning in her left arm- and then it was over. The nurse flashed her a pleased smile as she swiftly retracted the syringe and put a cotton ball over the small bleeding puncture wound in the frog girl’s arm. She also applied an adhesive bandage over it to fix it in place, and then patted Tsuyu’s thigh appreciatively.

“There you are, sweetie. You’re such a trooper! You didn’t even flinch,” the medical professional praised. Though sitting through a flu shot is really no big feat, Tsuyu’s cheeks still flooded with a flattered blush. “All right, honey. Your arm may be sore for a few days,” she warned. Tsuyu kindly thanked the nurse for her service before hopping up from the small stool so that Momo could take her place. Tsuyu meandered over to the sofas in the common room to sit down, flinching when her already sore arm brushed against the rigid side of the couch. _She wasn’t kidding when she said it would be sore,_ she frowned and edged away from the arm of the sofa to avoid another flare of pain.

The students of U.A.’s Class 1-A were currently in their dormitory cycling through getting their annual flu shots. U.A. spared no expense on their students’ health and safety, and so the vaccinations were complimentary. They had arranged for the nursing staff to pay house calls to all the dormitories after class that day to administer the shots, and so here they were, in the midst of the process.

“All right, honey, it may sting a little-”

“Just get on with it, will ya? I ain’t got all day! It’s just a damn flu shot!” Katsuki protested loudly from the impromptu nurses’ station assembled in the dormitory’s kitchen. The nurse knitted her eyebrows but obediently plunged the needle into the meat of the fiery boy’s upper arm, and Tsuyu raised an eyebrow when Katsuki jumped at the unexpected sting.

“What is it, Baku-bro? Hurt more than you thought?” Denki teased from the other end of the table. He then jumped a good four inches off the seat of the chair and yelped loudly when the nurse stuck him while he was distracted. “Owww,” he whined and looked at her, clearly feeling betrayed. The nurse chuckled sweetly and applied an All Might bandage to the area, which made Denki grin wide. “Look, guys! She gave me a super special Band-Aid!” he cried as he jaunted over to the sofas, pointing excitedly at the blue-and-yellow bandage.

“Is that because you were a big baby?” Kyoka teased and smothered her giggles with her hand. Denki made a voice and mocked her words with a high-pitch, wheedling voice before flopping down beside Tsuyu.

“I think it’s very nice, Kaminari,” Tsuyu offered kindly. Denki threw his nose in the air with a haughty huff.

“Why, thank you, Tsu. I thought so too.”

“I want an All Might Band-Aid,” Izuku pouted and looked down at his arm, where a very plain brown bandage rested. Ochako tutted comfortingly and whipped out a permanent marker to scribble a charming rendition of All Might onto his bandage. Izuku raised his eyebrows and stared intently at the doodle, then blushed the color of a tomato.

“All right…” Recovery Girl, who was overseeing the operation, tutted as she walked around the back of the sofa, checking off their names on a clipboard. She then suddenly frowned. “Wait a second… Where is Fumikage Tokoyami?” A confused ripple of whispers fluttered through the group of students as they looked around the room. Sure enough, their feathered friend was nowhere to be seen.

“Now that’s strange,” Momo wondered aloud. “He was very much aware that we were getting flu shots today. Did he forget and opt for extra training this afternoon?”

“Nah, I saw him when we were walking home,” Eijirou said while rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Besides, Mr. Aizawa said that all extra training requests would be denied _because_ of the flu shots.”

“Where could he have gone?” Ochako frowned deeply as she fidgeted beside Izuku. It was quite obvious that Fumikage was not in the room with them, so Tsuyu elected to rise from the couch and head off for the bedrooms. “Where ya goin’, Tsu?”

“To find him, of course,” she quipped matter-of-factly. “Perhaps he just forgot and is in his room. I’ll go get him.” The other students exchanged perplexed glances before shrugging and leaving Tsuyu to it. The green-haired girl mounted the steps to the appropriate floor and tromped over to his door. She knocked a few times and called “Tokoyami? Are you in there? We’re getting flu shots today!” She pouted confoundedly when there was no answer. She knocked once more and repeated herself louder; he had a habit of putting on headphones to listen to music, so perhaps he simply couldn’t hear her. Again, silence was her only answer. Her hand fell to the doorknob to give it an experimental twist. The metal knob yielded to her turning.

“Tokoyami, I’m coming in!” she announced before swinging the door open. Darkness fled with the oncoming of the light flooding from the fluorescent lights of the hallway. Thick black curtains on the windows kept the room cast in gloom, however. Tsuyu squinted as her eyes struggled to pierce the thick layer of darkness shrouding the bedroom. “Tokoyami…?” she called softly and took a few hesitant steps into the room. She raised her eyebrows when Dark Shadow suddenly slithered out from underneath the bed to blink his ruby-red eyes at her. “Oh! Hello, Dark Shadow.”

“He’s hiding under the bed,” the bird-like apparition informed her pointedly. The thick black rug that covered the wood floor muffled her footsteps as she walked over to the bed. She got down on her hands and knees to peer through the small gap between it and the floor, and Fumikage’s wide eyes stared back at her. His red irises were shrunk down, swimming in a white sea.

“Why are you hiding under the bed, Tokoyami?” Tsuyu asked curiously. If she could see the skin beneath his raven feathers, she imagined a heated blush would’ve overtaken it; with a grunt, he looked down at the floor. Tsuyu watched as he wriggled his shoulders sullenly but refused to comment. “… Are you afraid to get the flu shot?”

“No!” he protested immediately, looking back at her with a savage glare. Tsuyu blinked slowly.

“Well, why else would you be hiding?”

“I- I- _godammit_ \- I was… dusting.”

“Underneath the bed?”

“Erm… Yes.”

“It’s still very dusty down here,” she remarked as she swept a finger over the floor to find it coated in a thick layer of the gray-white fluffy powder. Fumikage growled unappreciatively at her astute observation. “You weren’t dusting, were you?”

“Okay, _fine,_ I don’t want to get the flu shot!” he whined loudly. Tsuyu’s legs and back were beginning to cramp from how she was crouching on the floor, so she flopped down on her belly and rested her head on her arms to stare blankly at the flustered boy. He clicked his beak angrily a few times. “It’s stupid, I know, but I don’t like needles! Wh-when I heard we had to get flu shots, I got all hot and sweaty and panicked…” Tsuyu thought back to a few days before when they had been given the announcement. She dimly recalled Fumikage rushing out of the classroom to the boys’ restroom as soon as they were dismissed. “S-so today… I quickly snuck up here in the chaos in hopes that my absence may go unnoticed.”

“Well, Recovery Girl noticed.” He growled angrily again. The wooden slats of the bed groaned as he restlessly shifted against them. “Tokoyami,” she frowned, and he whined quietly, already knowing what she was going to say, “you have to go get your flu shot.”

“I don’t want to,” he stubbornly insisted. Tsuyu could not help but giggle; his stubbornness was reminiscent of a grumpy toddler’s. As she covered her chuckle with a hand, he stared at her wild-eyed. She gasped when his red eyes suddenly flooded with tears. “It’s pathetic, I know,” he sniffled and angrily wiped at his feathered face with the backs of his hands. “I just… I can’t…” His words fumbled as the emotion thickened his throat. His tears sparkled in the low light as they rolled down his dark cheeks and puddled on the dusty floor. Tsuyu crooned and hurriedly tutted in denial, stretching her arm out under the bed to grab his hand.

“No, Tokoyami, I’m not laughing because I think you’re pathetic!” she interjected. “I’m sorry. It was insensitive of me. I just, well… I thought it was actually kind of adorable.”

“A-adorable?!” he spluttered bashfully, and Tsuyu nodded with a bright smile.

“Yeah! Why would I think it was pathetic? Everybody has something they’re scared of. For example, I’m afraid of salespeople.” Fumikage looked at her like she had lost her mind. “Seriously! They’re shady, always trying to sell you something, and usually, it’s useless or at least not worth the price they’re asking.” He slowly blinked before releasing a couple of deep chuckles.

“I do believe you made that up.”

“Maybe I did, but you can’t prove it,” she shrugged nonchalantly. Fumikage chuckled again, then released a small sigh.

“I _do_ suppose… I should go out there…” he admitted with much chagrin. Tsuyu scooted away from the bed to allow him room to climb out. Dust rained from his dark clothes as he sat up on his knees, so Tsuyu reached out to brush the clumps of cottony particles from his shoulders. “Thank you for coming to find me, Tsu.” Though it was clear he was not thrilled to have to get the vaccination, he did at least seem grateful that Tsuyu had cared enough to acknowledge his feelings. As they stood, Tsuyu offered him her hand.

“I know you’re scared, so how about I hold your hand until it’s over?” she suggested. It was purely a kind gesture, but Fumikage fluttered his fingers anxiously and whirled around. She blinked as he hunched his shoulders up to the tufty feathers at the back of his head. He muttered something she could not hear to Dark Shadow, presumably to make him cease his quiet chortling. Then, blowing air out of his beak, he whirled around and thrust his hand into Tsuyu’s.

“Yes, that would be suitable.” He seemed poise, but he squeezed her fingers very tightly, and his arm was rigid. Tsuyu smiled reassuringly before leading him from the room and back downstairs.

When they came down the landing, the other students hopped up to begin loudly questioning them. Fumikage bristled and huddled close behind Tsuyu, using her small frame to hide his slightly bigger bulk. Tsuyu calmly dismissed their inquiries to tote the dark-feathered boy over to the nurse’s station. He took one look at the chair at the nurse who was waiting with a capped syringe and attempted to spin on his heel and run back upstairs. Tsuyu held fast on his hand, making his arm jerk back. With gentle words and coaxes, she eased him down into the chair. His back was straight as a rod, and he nervously eyed the syringe as the nurse uncapped it.

“Tokoyami, look at me,” Tsuyu quipped. When he refused to do so, she stubbornly grabbed him by the beak and turned his face toward hers.

“Tsu-” he protested, his voice a bit distorted by her grip on the hard carapace. Tsuyu released his beak and flashed him a big smile.

“After this, do you want to go get bubble tea?”

“Ooh!” Ochako quipped, bouncing over to hang on Tsuyu’s arm. “Yes! Let’s all go get bubble tea! Tokoyami, you have _got_ to try the blackberry tea with strawberry popping pearls! It’s so yummy!”

“Bah!” Katsuki scoffed from his seat at the sofas. Though he had his eyes trained on his phone, he was apparently very much listening to the conversation. “You think Feathers is going to go for that fruity girly shit? Nah, man. A plain ol’ milk tea’ll suit him just fine.”

“Sorry, Baku-bro, I don’t think Tokoyami is as basic as you!” Denki teased. He scampered away as Katsuki swatted at him, attempting to grab ahold of a few of his golden blond hairs. “The watermelon tea is very good, though,” he pondered as he trotted over, tapping his pursed lips with the pad of his index finger.

Fumikage fidgeted uncomfortably in the seat, clearly still unsettled by the vaccination. Before he could say anything, the nurse suddenly piped up beside him.

“All right, sweetie! You’re done!” she smiled as she stuck a Hawks-themed bandage to his arm. The bird boy’s mouth fell open, and he glanced down to gawk at the bandage.

“I… What? I didn’t even feel it!”

“Yes, well, Miss Asui here did a stellar job of distracting you. You have an excellent friend here,” the nurse said while gathering her things. Fumikage snapped his mouth shut and side-eyed Tsuyu bashfully. The frog girl beamed triumphantly and squeezed his hand, which she was still holding.

“So, bubble tea?” The boy grumbled something unintelligible as he scratched the back of his neck.

“… The blackberry tea _does_ sound interesting.”

“Yay!” The class cheered in unison. The mood instantly soured as Mr. Aizawa sauntered into the room, hands-in-pockets. He looked like he was about to rain on their parade. He stared at them levelly for a moment before pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“They’d better have coffee flavor.”

“Woohoo! Class field trip!” Mina squealed as she dashed out of the door. The students shuffled out of the dormitory while Mr. Aizawa sighed a class’ worth of approved outing slips. As Tsuyu toddled along, someone tugged lightly on the pleats of her skirt; she turned around with raised eyebrows to see Fumikage staring sullenly at her.

“Thank you, Tsu, for not making fun of me…” he mumbled. Tsuyu gave him a friendly grin.

“I would never! Now come on. The bubble tea shop has some of those coin gacha games. There’s on with a little raven plush; I betcha between all twenty of us we can win one!” His eyes widened at the idea of a tiny bird plushie reminiscent of his black-feathered likeness. Tsuyu grabbed his hand and led him out the door, leaving all fears and inhibitions behind. “Besides, friends are there to support each other, right?” she said after a minute, and Fumikage looked at her in surprise. “I’m glad to be with you in your time of need.” He blinked, then chuckle amiably.

“Yes. I’m very grateful, Tsu. Very grateful.”


	22. Happy Birthday, Izuku!

Category: Friendship Fluff, Family Fluff

Characters: Class 1-A, Inko Midoriya, Toshinori Yagi, Shouta Aizawa

_“Wake up! Wake up! For I am here!”_

Izuku groaned loudly and rolled on his side to blindly fumble for the button on his alarm clock. He uselessly slapped the nightstand a few times, making the various items situated atop it jump and jostle. Still, after a few unsuccessful tries, he managed to bang the bright red button that turned off the alarm. The slightly grainy, robotic voice of All Might faded into silence, and Izuku laid in his bed for a few minutes, blissfully trapped in the twilight of half-sleep. However, a dull ache soon began to throb in his left arm. The pain stubbornly drove him into consciousness, and so with a sigh, he opened his emerald eyes to stare uninterestedly up at his white bedroom ceiling.

He reached around with his right hand to ghost his fingertips over the blotchy red scar tissue that marred his upper left arm. It had been a month since the incident at the Forest Training Camp, but the injuries he had sustained in the fight with Muscular were still very much healing. In another two or three weeks, the U.A. students would be returning to the campus- living in dormitories thanks to the relentless villain attacks- and Izuku wondered how his mangled arm would fare. _It doesn’t matter,_ he thought obstinately. _I’ll make myself stronger and stronger, because I have to!_

“Izukuuuu!” The green-haired boy sat up in bed as his mother’s voice floated down the hallway. “Are you awake, dear?”

“Yeah! I’m just getting up,” he responded in an equally loud call. When he threw the covers off himself and swung around to get off the bed, he caught a glimpse of the date glowing in bright red numbers in the black screen of his alarm clock. _June 15 th… Oh! It’s my sixteenth birthday! _He remembered with a gleeful smile. Now that he had sufficient motivation to get up, Izuku jumped out of bed to wrestle himself into some slippers. When he opened his door, his mother was waiting in the hallway, twiddling her fingers.

“Oh! Good morning, sweetie. Happy birthday!” she smiled broadly and shuffled forward to envelop him in a hug. Izuku hummed contentedly and wrapped his arms around her middle to embrace her with equal enthusiasm. “Ah! My little boy is sixteen… Oh, dear, I’m getting old,” Inko moaned forlornly and began to sniffle. Izuku laughed and pulled back to blot at his mother’s tears with the hem of his tee-shirt.

“Aw, Mom, it’s okay,” he chuckled.

“Yes, yes,” she tutted and wiped harshly at her face. “Today is _your_ day! I’ve already prepared breakfast for you!” Izuku exclaimed in delight and scuttled into the kitchen, with his mother tottering behind him and laughing good-naturedly. He was greeted with a scrumptious array of fried eggs over buttered toast, seared beef, and white rice. He scarfed it down and chased it with sweet black tea his mother had also prepared, bleating compliments and gratuitous remarks to his mother all the while. Afterward, he helped her clean all the dishes, although she kept dithering around him and insisting that he shouldn’t have to do any chores today.

“Mom, just because I’m sixteen today doesn’t mean I have to lump all the work on you!” he snickered while putting the pots and pans in the cabinets. He blinked when the chime of the doorbell rang through the small apartment. “Oh? Who could that be?” he wondered aloud, abandoning the dish he had been drying to trot up to the front door. He opened it and nearly jumped out of his skin when a big, broad, muscular body shoved its way into the room, which now rang with bawdy laughter.

“I am here, young Midoriya, to wish you a happy birthday!” All Might crowed, his button-up shirt straining to keep from snapping into threads as he flexed his massive biceps. Izuku let out a sound somewhere between a scream and a warble at his mentor’s sudden appearance.

“Ah! All Might!” he cried. His mother called greeting from the other room, peering around the wall with a shy wave, to which the number-one pro hero laughed audaciously and responded accordingly. Izuku’s cheeks turned pink, and he hurriedly bundled the large man into a room where his mother couldn’t see him. “All Might, are you sure this is wise? How long can you hold your muscle form?”

“Not long,” he admitted with a slight frown. “However, that doesn’t matter, for I am here to take you on a super-duper special outing, my young Midoriya!” he crowed with another loud laugh. He then peeked his head around the crown molding to smile dazzlingly at Inko, who squeaked and straightened up. “Of course, if your dear mother doesn’t mind me stealing you for a few hours. I wouldn’t want to ruin a mother’s wonderful day with her son!”

“Oh no! Please, go ahead! I have to go shopping for dinner anyway,” Inko laughed amiably with a dismissive wave of her hand. Izuku yelped as All Might then grabbed him to bundle him back to his bedroom.

“Excellent, excellent! Now then, young Midoriya, get dressed!” As the door slammed shut behind him, Izuku exhaled deeply and fiddled with his fingers.

 _I never would’ve dreamed that I would be spending my birthday with All Might,_ he thought. The notion brought a giddy smile to his lips, and he hastily began rifling through his closet to find something suitable to wear.

~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as the apartment was out of eyeshot, All Might released his muscle form. He collapsed against the brick wall of a nearby building with an exaggerated sigh, wiping blood from his lips with a pink-stained rag. Izuku fluttered nervously around him, arms flapping.

“All Might, are you sure about this?! You’re not in the greatest of health! I mean, you really ought to be in bed being tended to by a doctor or two or three, not spending the day with _me_! I’m certainly not worth it; it’s only my sixteenth birthday, after all! I can’t smoke or drink or vote or drive- wait, no, I _can_ technically drive now. I wonder when Mom will take me to get my driver’s license. Wait, are _you_ taking me to get my driver’s license? I’m not nearly prepared! I need to practice a little first!” He continued to babble, nervously fiddling his fingers, until Toshinori slapped both his hands down onto his slim shoulders. He clamped his mouth shut with a squeak.

“Young Midoriya. _Focus_.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m taking you out today because I _wanted_ to be here for you on your birthday.”

“Thank you, sir!” Izuku smiled gratefully at him. The fact that his beloved teacher and mentor desired to spend such quality time with him outside of training made a warm feeling bubble up inside his body. “If I may ask, what are we doing today?” he inquired as the thin man began a leisurely pace down the sidewalk. Toshinori chuckled amiably and patted him on the head.

“Patience, young Midoriya. Some of life’s great joys come by surprise!” Izuku gasped in awe and mentally committed the sage advice to memory to hopefully quote later. Together, they plodded merrily through the subdivision to soon transition into the business district. It was a lovely day for a jaunt to town; it was pleasurably warm with just a faint breeze to keep things cool, and the sun shone in a cloudless blue sky. Izuku found himself in high spirits, considering the lovely weather and the fact he was strolling around with his cherished teacher. _I wonder what he has planned! Oh, I’m so excited!_ He thought, unable to contain and eager wiggle. Toshinori chuckled warmly beside him.

After about a twenty-minute walk, they arrived at a nice restaurant in the center of town. An iron-wrought fence enclosed a garden eating area with elegant stone paths and a cloth veranda to protect restaurant-goers from the elements. Izuku recognized it as one of the ritziest venues in town- and therefore the most expensive. When Toshinori stopped walking to smile at him expectantly, Izuku’s jaw nearly struck the floor.

“What? N-n-n-n-no way, All Might! I can’t-! You can’t-!” The taller man snorted with laughter and unceremoniously bundled him inside despite his sputtering protests. Izuku’s back straightened like a rod when the usher regarded him with a critical look. “ _Why are you doing this?_ ” he hissed under his breath as Toshinori whispered something to the attendant, who nodded curtly and whirled around. Izuku and his mentor followed the tuxedoed man to the back of the restaurant, where they were escorted into a spacious room with a long table set for over twenty people. Izuku’s emerald eyes were as wide as green moons as he beheld the setup. “Um… All Might, are we expecting others…?”

“Dekuuuuuu!”

“OHMYGOSH!” Izuku screamed as someone abruptly hugged him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder to see Ochako’s round smiling face blinking up at him.

“Happy birthday!” she giggled happily. Pink-faced and thoroughly flustered, Izuku could only release a high-pitched whine as she scuttled around him. In her moment of distraction, All Might had assumed his muscular form. “Hello, All Might, sir!” she chirped jovially as she bounced over to him. The hero chortled good-naturedly and patted her shoulder.

“Hello there, Uraraka! Good to have you.”

“Umm, All Might? What is happening?” Izuku whispered as Ochako procured a small wrapped package and set it at the center of the table.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ochako laughed and hopped into a seat. “We’re here to celebrate your birthday, Deku!” Izuku’s face turned the color of a tomato. When he looked wide-eyed at his mentor, he just grinned broadly and shrugged. At this point, Tenya game bundling in.

“Midoriya! Happy birthday!” he cried with exaggerated waves of his arms. Izuku squirmed uncomfortably as the tall boy plopped a large wrapped present atop the table right beside Ochako’s. He took the seat beside the bubbly girl, and they devolved into avid conversation; Izuku took the opportunity to scamper over to the muscle-bound hero.

“All Might! Did you arrange this?” he whispered fervently.

“Why, of course, young Midoriya! I imagined that you wanted to spend your birthday with your friends,” the pro hero answered. A bright haze of pink blazed over his cheeks, and that bubbly happy feeling rose inside of him again.

“My friends…” he echoed in wonder. Izuku jumped when someone kicked the door open.

“Oi! Are we late?!”

“Ka-Kacchan!” Izuku stammered in shock as the explosive blond boy charged in through the door. Frankly, the green-haired boy was shocked to see Katsuki attending his birthday celebration. When Eijirou poked his head over his shoulder to grin toothily at him, Izuku reasoned that perhaps Katsuki had been _persuaded_ to attend. Izuku jumped and squeaked when Katsuki tromped over to slam a crudely-wrapped package into his chest.

“Here, loser, for your stupid birthday. Now, where’s the food?! I’m starvin’!” Katsuki complained loudly and stomped over to Ochako. “Oi, Cheeks, you got any food?” Eijirou chuckled and set a present down by the others before also wishing Izuku a happy birthday. Izuku was basically short-circuiting, because his poor brain couldn’t handle all the information being thrown at him at once.

“Looks like I’m right on time,” droned a gravelly voice from the door. Izuku’s jaw flopped open when his teacher, Mr. Aizawa, sauntered in bearing a small package for a gift card. He casually tossed it beside the others before striding over, hands stuffed in his jumpsuit pants pockets. Izuku was amazed that the underground hero would have the gall to stroll into such an upscale place wearing such casual clothing. _Props to Mr. Aizawa…_ “Happy birthday, Midoriya.”

“Th-thank you, sir! I’m very grateful to everybody for planning this,” Izuku smiled sheepishly. Aizawa gave him a charming smile before walking over to keep Katsuki from clambering on the table to punch Tenya in the jaw over some silliness or another.

It wasn’t long before the rest of Izuku’s classmates showed up, and they were soon embroiled in a fun and raucous lunch. Izuku tried not to think about the terrible mess that the staff would have to clean up, nor the enormity of the bill that All Might would have to foot as a result of their avid celebration. Instead, he tore into the filet mignon and grilled asparagus before him. He purred happily at the excellent flavors bursting over his tongue, squeezing his eyes shut as he savored the spices and marinade. After enjoying the delicious food, they piled up all the plates, glassware, and silverware on the edge of the table so that Izuku could have ample room to open his gifts.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” Izuku laughed sheepishly as Mina shoved the sizeable pile of gifts over to him.

“Oh, hush! Now open mine first!” the pink girl insisted while shoving a glittery pink bag over to him. The sparkly confetti rained from the tissue paper as he tugged it free from the confines of the plastic container. His face turned nearly as pink as the solid plastic when he peered down into the bottom. “I’m funny, right? Right?” Mina cackled as Izuku pulled a container of calcium gummies and a bottle of milk from the bag. “’Cuz you break your bones all the time!” she howled as she doubled over and held her belly.

“ _Very_ funny, Mina,” he muttered blankly, not sure whether to be offended or amused.

“Aha, I know, I’m a genius,” she sighed as her laughs faded down into giggles. “Here’s your real gift, though,” she said and held out something to him. Izuku flushed when he realized that it was a pair of All Might-patterned socks. He spluttered a simple thanks and tried to suppress the urge to rip off his shoes and slide the socks onto his feet. He elected just to push the item aside and go on to the next gift. Katsuki eyed him intensely as he grabbed the roughly-wrapped package and tore away the gift paper. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he beheld the limited-edition All Might hoodie, holding it with trembling hands.

“Ka- _Kacchan_ ,” he breathed in amazement and looked at his childhood friend and rival. Katsuki snorted derisively and looked down at his feet.

“Don’t gimme that dumb stare, loser,” the blond huffed. “What, did you think I was gonna turn up empty-handed? I’m not an asshole.”

“Uh… That’s _exactly_ what you are, Bakugo,” Denki snickered. He then yelped when Katsuki boxed him over the head.

“Mind your own damn business, Pikachu! Gah!” Katsuki growled and shot Izuku an intimidating stare. “Anyway, happy birthday, or whatever…”

“Aw. Bakugo, you _can_ be sweet when you put your mind to it!” Ochako praised. A pink tinge came to Katsuki’s cheeks, and he muttered something under his breath. Izuku looked down to admire the soft fabric of the exclusive hoodie and smiled.

“Thanks, Kacchan…”

~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku’s friends were very generous. He scored a multitude of fun gifts, including a quaint mug and some tea bags from Momo, a new videogame from Denki, and some cool new laces for his signature red tennis shoes from Ochako. Mineta even managed to give him something halfway-decent, a gift card to the local bookstore. However, the small purple-haired boy naturally began salivating and talking about the very indecent things that Izuku could spend it on. By some feat of acrobat-like ingenuity, Tsuyu flipped him head-first into the busboy’s dirty dishwater.

The sky was dyed red, and the sun was sinking towards the horizon by the time Izuku bid his friends and Mr. Aizawa adieu and set out for home. As soon as the last student vanished from sight, All Might released his muscle form and collapsed against the alleyway wall.

“Ugh, that was rough. I didn’t know if I was going to make it,” Toshinori lamented as he wiped the blood dripping from his mouth with the back of his hand. Izuku smiled gratefully at him.

“I really appreciate you for putting this on for me, All Might… I can honestly say this has been one of my best birthdays ever!” Izuku chirped. Toshinori chuckled lightheartedly and stepped forward to pat him a few times on the back. All the gifts bundled in Izuku’s arms bounced slightly with the jostling of his body.

“Of course. I’m glad I could be there for you. Oh! I almost forgot,” he said and began fishing in his back pocket. As much as he could with his arms laden with presents, Izuku waved a hand in refusal.

“What? No, All Might, I can’t accept anything more than you’ve already given me!” he protested. “You spent so much on that dinner, and all this effort into inviting everyone over and straining yourself to keep up that form- I can’t! I refuse! _No_!” All Might ignored him and procured a Polaroid camera. Izuku blinked, very confused, and the tall, lanky man held the camera above their heads and jerked him by the arm to pull him into the camera frame.

“ _Cheese_ , young Midoriya!” he grinned before the bright white of the camera flash nearly blinded the shocked boy. He just managed to squeeze in an uneven, shaky smile before Toshinori’s thumb tapped the button to take the picture. Immediately, the camera spat out a black photo rimmed in white. Toshinori plucked it from the printer and shook it vigorously until the color finally developed. The blond man inspected the photograph before smiling in satisfaction, and then pulled out a marker. He plucked the cap off with his teeth and scrawled something across the bottom of the photo. Izuku blinked as Toshinori plopped the camera down atop the mountain of gifts, then showed him the picture.

 _Happy birthday, young Midoriya._ Smiling, his teacher tucked the photo between some boxes. Their happy faces grinned at Izuku, and he felt his eyes watering. It was such a simple gesture, yet it meant more to him than the most expensive gift in the world.

“Thank you, All Might. This is the best birthday ever,” he repeated in a soft voice, and the tears dripped down his cheeks. All Might chortled and ruffled his green hair.

“Always with the waterworks. That’s all right. Sensitive people make great heroes because they’re very empathetic,” he mused. Izuku sniffed and nodded, but he didn’t want to cry all day, so he struggled to wipe his face with his upper arms. Somehow, he didn’t knock any of his gifts out of his hands. “All right then!” All Might announced and clapped his hands together. “Your mother is probably hard at work on dinner for you. Let’s not keep her waiting, eh, young Midoriya?”

“All Might! Please stay for dinner.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t-“

“Please! I insist! Plus, knowing Mom, she probably already has the table set for three.” All Might grimaced and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Well… If she’s already burdened herself…” Izuku didn’t let him finish the thought and hurriedly bustled out of the alleyway. “Ah! Wait, young Midoriya!”

Izuku ignored him, trotting down the sidewalk towards his home. The fruits of his friendship bobbled in his arms, and a big bright smile graced his face. Maybe he couldn’t do much with turning sixteen, but if the day led to him spending time with the most important people in his life, he would argue that’s a pretty momentous occasion indeed.


	23. Weddings and Wisteria Trees

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Fumikage Tokoyami, Ibara Shiozaki

Additional Tags: Feudal Japan AU

Ibara stared blankly into the curved surface as the mirror as one of her attending ladies brushed her long, trailing strands of summer green hair. The rhythmic, gentle tugging against the roots of her hair would typically be soothing, but on this day of all days, Ibara could not find joy even in the simplest of things. Not even the gentle rustling of the emerald leaves against her window or the sweet scent of the sweet pea perfume that one of the other servants spritzed against her wrists, ankles, and collarbone could bring a smile to Ibara’s face. No, _today_ , Ibara was to marry a man that she had never met.

“My Lady, you look a little pale this morning,” the woman who’d been brushing her hair tutted as she tipped Ibara’s chin up with a few fingers. With the same stony expression, the bride-to-be turned her face to look down at her legs, which were flush with the rose of life as compared to the pure white silk of her slip. “Have you taken ill?”

“No, I am not ill,” she answered quietly. While it would be an excellent excuse to avoid meeting her suitor, it just wouldn’t do. As the daughter of a wealthy merchant and artisan family, Ibara’s sole responsibility was to wed an established man. She had no choice but to fulfill this role, lest she bring great shame upon her family and their name. _Regardless of my feelings about it, I must perform this duty. Father and Mother’s business would be ruined if I refused the hand of this man._ Ibara would be given several hours before the ceremony to acclimate to her soon-to-be husband. She was grateful at least for that small window of time; she couldn’t imagine walking into the anteroom to wed a complete and total stranger. All she knew about him was that he hailed from a distinguished samurai family.

Her servants knew better than to gossip with Ibara about her impending marriage, so they busied themselves with preparing Ibara’s clothes. She would not don the pristine white bridal kimono until right before the ceremony, but the garment she would wear to the pre-wedding meeting was arguably more stunning. Ibara stood and raised her arms perpendicular to her body so that her servants could slip a kimono of dark green fabric over her figure. White stitching outlined large, fan-like leaves across the material, and the plants were filled in with jade cloth the same shade as Ibara’s magnificent hair.

Her parents said that Ibara was born with green hair because her mother had prayed to the local forest god for fertility; the deity had blessed her, and colored Ibara’s hair as a reminder of its divine blessings. The long, luscious locks marked Ibara’s most striking feature, and its novelty had attracted attention from many notable suitors across the continent. Luckily, Ibara’s parents were gracious enough to choose a groom who was close in age to her. Ibara didn’t know how she would cope with marrying someone twenty years her senior.

“You look radiant, My Lady,” one of her attendants hummed as she straightened the hem of Ibara’s kimono. The royal girl blinked slowly at her reflection in the mirror. Under normal circumstances, Ibara would most certainly agree; the green hues of the fabric accented her emerald eyes and vine-green locks, while her skin provided suitable contrast to the earthy tones.

As Ibara stared at herself in the mirror, the ladies threaded a hairpin wrought from thin gold wire into her hair; a clothed peony bejeweled with topazes and jasper stones adorned the accessory, and light, wispy gold ribbons trailed down from the piece. A servant skillfully wound it through a braided section of her hair to create a regal and tasteful hairstyle. Yes, under normal circumstances, Ibara would find herself quite gorgeous indeed. However, that cold pit of dread and trepidation swallowed any and every positive emotion. The ball of darkness was like a wicked weed, smothering all other flowers of feeling with cold indifference.

Ibara forced a smile on her face as the sliding door to her bedroom opened, and her parents walked in.

“Oh, my dear, you look _stunning_ ,” her mother crooned as she approached the eighteen-year-old girl. Ibara politely closed her eyes when her mother leaned in to kiss her lovingly on the cheek. Her parent flashed her a bright smile through the silvery reflection of the mirror. Ibara’s own smile was strained and false. Either her mother didn’t notice, or she ignored it. Ibara’s father moseyed over to grasp her by the upper arms and lean over her shoulders.

“Are you ready, darling?”

“Of course, Father,” Ibara responded smoothly. The lie rolled off her tongue like syrup- with practiced ease. “I am more than ready to do my duty to the family. This marriage will be prosperous for us.” The wealthy merchant smiled widely and patted her shoulders approvingly. Now that the preparations were complete, they swiftly bundled Ibara into a carriage. The wagon featured the height of comfort- minx fur comforters, feather-stuffed pillows, and silk curtains- but Ibara fidgeted endlessly amongst the luxurious items. Nausea spun her belly around, and the jostling of the carriage on the uneven dirt path worsened it. Ibara pushed her head out of the window, hoping the cold air would settle her sickness. It calmed somewhat, but her throat remained tight with unease, making every breath harsh and laborious.

The Tokoyami estate resided in a nearby valley, which belonged to a rich daimyo who made his fortune by maintaining and operating large commercial farms. According to her parents, the Tokoyami family was one of the samurai clans that managed the sprawling collection of farmsteads. The local farmers spoke highly of both the daimyo and the small assortment of samurai that maintained the peace and order. Hence, it relieved Ibara that she wouldn’t be immigrating to a lawless, turbulent region- if the rumors proved right, anyway. The estate was a mere two-hour journey by horse-drawn cart.

Not a long voyage by any means, but it was the longest two hours of Ibara’s life.

Ibara gulped down several breaths of air when the carriage driver opened the door. Though she’d possessed access to the window, it seemed like the air beyond the cart was fresher and crisper. It flooded her lungs with an uplifting cold- only for a few moments. When Ibara’s slippers met the bright green grass, the reality of her situation slammed back down upon her shoulders. Phantom aches of the burden she bore made her back muscles burn and throb. She hardly registered taking her father’s arm and walking down the cobblestone path leading to the mansion. Ibara’s main priority at this point was _breathing_.

Her lungs seemed none too keen on inflating and providing her body with oxygen. Focusing on breathing appeared to further their disobedience, so instead, she attempted to focus on her surroundings. Shady wisteria trees lined the neat stone pathway; their wispy fronds curled over the lane to create a tunnel-like atmosphere. The feather-like branches ruffled in the breeze, mirroring Ibara’s waves of green hair, which rippled like green water as the wind played the strands like harp strings. The floral fragrance of their creamy purple plumes mingled with the scent of sweet pea still dousing Ibara’s skin. She found the aroma soothing, so her nerves settled just a bit.

They jumped back into high-gear once the house came into view. It was a magnificent, grand structure with an ornate porch stretching around the building, adorned with a white lattice trellis trawling with dark green vines. Through the gap in the porch above the stairs, she could see a sliding door painted with a lovely rendition of crows resting in the branches of an oak tree. Ibara huddled close to her father as they strode up the path. While her parents exuded auras of confidence and poise, anxiety bled from Ibara’s pores like dark, putrid water. When they stepped up onto the portico, the front doors slid open to reveal a dark-haired man and woman wearing regal purple-and-white kimonos.

“Welcome to our home. Please, come inside,” the man said with a regal bow. Ibara pressed against her father’s arm, regarding the noble couple with wide eyes. As the man raised his head, his gaze flickered to her. The deep ruby hue of his irises unsettled Ibara. Ibara likened them to bright red blood, and the image of the liquid leaking from her mangled, dead body suddenly bloomed in her head. The nausea returned full-force, but there was nothing to be done. Her parents quickly ushered her into the abode.

The polished wood beneath Ibara’s feet made not a creak as she hobbled alongside her father. A maid poured five glasses of aromatic ginger tea and distributed them to the families as they sat on cushions around a small coffee table. Her suitor was nowhere to be seen. Ibara wasn’t sure if that relieved or disconcerted her.

“Your reputation proceeds you, My Lady Shiozaki,” the head of the Tokoyami household smiled at Ibara with a respectful dip of his head. “Truly, words of your beauty do you no justice. You are even more splendid than the rumors suggest.” Though Ibara’s tongue was as dry as sandpaper, she forced herself to provide a small word of thanks. “We have much to discuss concerning the wedding ceremony to be performed at dusk,” he continued with a languid wave to her parents. “My son, Fumikage, is much eager to meet you. He is waiting in our garden out back.”

“My attendant shall escort you,” the mother piped up with a serene smile. The maid shuffled forward, bowed to Ibara, and then gestured toward the hallway leading out of the room. “We would like to give you this time to yourselves to get to know each other.”

Ibara knew this meeting was coming, but it did not stop all the starch from dissolving from her knees. She clutched the edge of the coffee-table in a white-knuckled grip as she pushed herself to her feet. Thankfully, the skirt of her kimono hid her wobbling knees. Ibara took a few moments to discreetly gather herself by steadying her breathing and steeling her nerves. It worked only just enough for her to take some tentative steps towards the attendant. The young girl immediately turned and disappeared into the thin hallway leading into the interior of the house. Ibara sucked in a breath and, without looking back at her mother and father, followed the servant.

Sunlight filtered in through the cloth windows to cast the hallway in a bright gold atmosphere. The stripes of light dappled across Ibara’s dark green kimono to dye it the brilliant emerald of her eyes. They walked for about two minutes before they came upon another sliding door. Ibara could hear birdsong and the babbling of window drifting through the thick cloth panes. The servant bowed to her once more.

“This is the entrance to the garden. When the preparations for the ceremony are complete, I will fetch you. Please excuse me,” the maid said, bowing deeper. Ibara acknowledged the young maid with a curt nod. Dismissed, the maid shuffled away down the hall. Ibara sucked in a nervous breath and faced the door. By all rights, it was an ordinary sliding door, but to Ibara, it looked like the entranceway to another dimension. _Does it lead to Heaven or Hell?_ she wondered with an anxious gulp. Her fingers trembled as they slotted into the groove in the smooth wooden frame. The door rattled quietly as she drew it open. Fresh air carrying the aroma of various plants jumped through the gap, and the breeze ruffled the skirt of Ibara’s silk kimono friskily. Ibara opened the door halfway and shyly peered around it.

A garden extended behind the small porch ringing the backside of the structure. A massive wisteria, which dwarfed the specimens lining the path leading up to the house, dominated the back corner of the backyard. Its purple blossoms swayed in the gentle breeze like noiseless windchimes. A rock pathway meandered from the wooden steps around the grassy expanse, trailing around iron-wrought benches and flower patches and a koi pond with a small bubbling waterfall. Songbirds flitted through the grass, pecking at the ground in search of seeds and grubs. Ibara could see no one in her direct line of sight, so she cleared her throat and hesitantly called, “Hello?”

Ibara flinched when she heard the distinct sound of grass crunching underfoot. She used the door to shield the majority of her body as the footsteps approached. Suddenly, the songbirds scattered into the sky with frantic chirps and twitters to disappear into the leaves of the oak leaves looming over the garden wall. Ibara’s eyes widened as a young man strolled into view and squinted directly at her.

He was a handsome fellow; there was no doubt about it. His hair was a deep black like his parents’, shining with a violet tinge in the bright sunlight. It was close-cropped around his neck and ears but fluffy around the top, poofing out at the back not unlike a bird’s fluffy short tail feathers. He wore a cotton yukata of violet accented with lavender and white underlayers. A hand rested on the deep purple hilt of the katana secured to his hips. What captivated Ibara was his eyes, however- like his father’s, they were a deep crimson. They set like hard-cut rubies in his pale face, but their glittering harshness didn’t unsettle Ibara as before. Gleaming intelligence and curiosity shone within those vermillion irises, and Ibara found herself intrigued.

As Fumikage stared at her, Ibara remained huddled behind the door.

“Miss Shiozaki?” he called inquiringly. His voice vibrated with a deep bass, but it carried a light-hearted tone. Ibara’s anxieties began to wane, so she crept out from behind the door to walk out onto the porch. A pink haze appeared on her cheeks as his eyes visibly widened in awe. “F-forgive me,” he stammered after a few seconds of staring and hastily turned away. “I am simply overcome by your beauty…”

“You’re too kind,” Ibara smiled shyly. To be honest, she had not been sure what this son of a prominent samurai would be like; she was relieved to find him courteous and even a bit meek. Curiosity soon began to overtake her hesitations, so she walked closer to the top of the steps leading down to the garden. Fumikage’s gaze flickered to her, and before she could begin walking down the steps, he rushed forward to offer her his hand. “Thank you.” His hand was soft and welcoming as it gently embraced her fingers. He guided her down the steps and, when she regarded him expectantly, brought her hand to his mouth to respectfully kiss the top of her hand.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” he smiled gallantly. Though it was purely customary to address her in such a way, Ibara could detect genuine joy swimming in his bright red irises.

“As am I,” she responded kindly. Fumikage’s gaze slowly trailed to her flowing waves of jade-green hair. When Ibara noticed his captivated stare, she giggled and offered him a swathe of her locks. He began to stammer and sputter refusals, flapping his hands about, but Ibara pushed the chunk of hair forward with a gentle laugh. “I don’t mind. It isn’t every day that you see a woman with green hair, no?” Fumikage gulped audibly but nodded and timidly took the hair in his hands. An awed breath ghosted past his lips as he admired the sheen of the green mane, and his thumb slowly trailed over the smooth strands, as if he appreciated the most beautiful gemstone. The way he drank in the luster of her hair made her cheeks redden further. Under his intense gaze, Ibara felt nothing less than a goddess.

“Simply marvelous… I have never seen anything like it…” Fumikage murmured. His gaze flickered upwards, and his red irises locked with Ibara’s green ones. With a nervous cough, he hastily dropped her hair and straightened back up to maintain some sense of poise. “Miss Shiozaki-”

“Ibara,” she corrected. A red hue blazed over the entirety of his face, and Ibara chuckled at how cute the young man was. “We are to be married today. Please, call me Ibara,” she insisted. He wrung his hands uncertainly for a few seconds.

“R-right then. Ibara,” he nodded, saying her name slowly like he was experimentally rolling it over his tongue. “As such, you may call me Fumikage.” He blushed fiercely when she repeated his name. “A-a-anyway, would you like to stroll with me around the garden?” he asked and offered her his arm. Ibara glanced around the extravagant backyard; it stretched along the entire backside of the manor, with the back wall a small black line in the distance. The stone path wandered through the garden, and its meandering curves would provide a nice long walk indeed. Smiling amiably, Ibara hooked her arms around Fumikage’s. A heat rose to her face when she felt the solid muscle hidden beneath the thick cloth, so she tried to focus on maintaining a friendly aura rather than on indecent thoughts. As she rested her hand on the thick of his arm, he draped his over hers. His touch was gentle and kind.

The walked in tandem along the winding pathway. Ibara esteemed the bamboo water fountain that filled the air with a repetitive, calm tapping as it flowed water into the koi pond. They paused beside the small pool, and Ibara watched the fish swimming along the muddy bottom. They flitted through the roots of the lotuses blooming on the surface in their big green pads, the shadows dappling their red, white, orange, and black multicolored scales. Ibara could barely see her reflection in the clear water and flushed when she noticed Fumikage smiling adoringly at her. After a few more minutes of watching the fish swim, they continued on their way.

“I am told that your mother crafts luxury clothes and accessories, and your father sells them, and this is how your family made your fortune,” Fumikage said after some time strolling down the path. “Did your mother make this?” he asked with a gesture to the ornate hairpin adorning her hair. Ibara raised a hand to touch the cloth-and-wire construction.

“Yes. She made it especially for this meeting.”

“She is very talented. I will have to extend her my compliments,” Fumikage smiled as he appreciated the lavish fixture. “Are you also a seamstress or craftswoman?” Ibara flushed and looked bashfully down at her feet.

“My mother taught me the craft, but I am not nearly as talented. My father says it is unbecoming of someone of my stature, but the servants say my true talent lies in the cultivation of plants…” she admitted meekly. Ibara possessed a great love of plants. From a young age, she had frequented their manor’s herb garden, which the cooks used rather than importing spices. They said that Ibara possessed a “green thumb”- an inherent ability to make plants flourish and thrive. “It is not a very useful talent for a noblewoman…”

“No!” Fumikage interjected, and she peered at him out of the corners of her eyes. He blushed slightly and adjusted his tone to a calmer one. “N-no,” he repeated softly, “I think that is a charming gift. I-if it pleases you,” he stammered with a sweeping gesture to the garden, “you can have leave of this place as you wish. The servants tend it, but if it made you happy, I would have you tend to it as you desire.” Ibara could not hide the eager expression that bloomed over her face.

“Really?!” As she enthusiastically looked around the garden, ideas for improvements sparked in her mind. Fumikage chuckled as he watched her glance around fervently. After a few seconds, she recalled her place and looked down at the hem of her dress in embarrassment. “Ah… Forgive me.”

“Do not ask forgiveness,” he corrected her. His hand twitched once before resting under her chin to tilt her face up slowly. Her eyes widened when they met his ruby irises. “If this place makes you happy, then I am delighted.” His thumb swept once across her cheek in a feather-light touch before his hand dropped back to his side. A bright red tinge appeared on his face, and he cleared his throat gracelessly. “Sh-shall we continue…?” Ibara nodded sagely, and, feeling slightly bold, pressed herself a little closer to Fumikage. If he took notice of her intimate action, he didn’t acknowledge it.

The sun inched across the blazing blue sky as they ambled down the garden path. They discussed many things, including their respective childhoods and interests. Ibara had been surprised to learn that Fumikage was not merely a samurai in training, but also practice. He recounted a harrowing trail of hunting bandits in the nearby mountains for the daimyo, and how his first real battle had earned him a scar on his forearm. He showed it to her. Ibara marveled at the thin white line crossing the otherwise unmarred skin, and gulped when she imagined a sharp blade biting into the flesh of her own forearm. A phantom stinging pain slashed at her limb, and so she clutched it tightly.

“Did it hurt?” she whispered, eye flicking up to his. Amusement danced in his crimson eyes as he chuckled at her.

“Yes, it did hurt,” he chortled. “But I am better for the wound. I lived to fight another day and learned my sword better to prevent it from ever happening again.” Ibara nodded slowly, tracing the thin and unassuming scar with her fingertip. She jerked away when Fumikage flinched, and she wondered if perhaps the area was still sensitive. When she opened her mouth to apologize, he laughed. “That tickled.” She blinked a few times. She smiled with a soft giggle.

~~~~~~~~~~

After the sun had reached the highest point in the sky to beat down upon them, the pair of young nobles reclined under the wisteria tree to partake in its lovely shade. Their shoulders touched as they lounged against the thick trunk, and every subtle movement that made their arms brush sent crackling fire through Ibara’s nerves.

“Your home is truly beautiful,” Ibara sighed contentedly as she watched a few cotton-white butterflies dart through a nearby flowerbed. They perched on the bright blue flowers to suckle at the nectar within. Ibara felt more at ease than she ever had in the splendid garden, even if she was seated beside the man she was to marry in a few hours.

“I am relieved you find this place to your liking.” He was silent for a few seconds, then fidgeted uncomfortably. “To be honest,” he confessed with an awkward scratch at the back of his neck, “I was concerned that you would be unhappy in coming here. I understand that marrying a man you have never met is daunting…” His vermillion eyes flickered to her face, and he flashed her a discomfited smile. “But I hope that you can still find it in yourself to learn to love me…”

“ _Fumikage_ ,” Ibara whispered in admiration. The boy’s eyes were sad as he stared forlornly at the katana resting against the tree trunk. _He is as uneasy about this as I am,_ she realized. She reached out to grasp one of his hands with both her own. “There is… much I do not know yet about you, just is there is much you don’t know about me,” she admitted with knitted eyebrows and a frown, “and I would be remiss to deny that I am still uncertain.” Fumikage looked at her uncomfortably.

Smiling sweetly, she reached up to run her fingers through his fluffy raven hair, finding it softer than a bird’s down. “I do not know yet what is to become of the two of us in this union, but there is one thing I _can_ say for certain. As we take our vows with the gods as our witnesses, I will mean every word, because I have never met a man as kind and true as you.” He flushed red at her high praise, and he looked down at their adjoined hands. “I came here afraid to meet the man I was to wed. I am _not_ afraid to learn to love you anymore.”

“That relieves me,” Fumikage murmured with a tiny smile. He edged out his thumb to stroke Ibara’s knuckles adoringly. “I am lucky,” he laughed and looked up with a bright smile. “I never imagined that I would marry a woman blessed by a god.” His hand pushed into her waves of green hair to tuck it behind her ear; as it retreated, it came to rest on her cheek, thumb sweeping arcs under her eye. She leaned into his touch, smiling at the peculiar softness of his calloused hand against her face. “I am sure the god looks upon you fondly, being such a generous and honorable woman as you are.”

“You flatter me,” she chuckled. Her eyes grew lidded as Fumikage’s continuous caresses eased her into a sense of security and comfort. There was no lie in his touch; though they had just met, genuine care and love existed in his soft strokes over her skin. Ibara’s eyelashes fluttered demurely as his smile widened.

“You may not want to look at me like that,” he warned spiritedly. “I may do something quite unbecoming of one of my stature.” At the usage of the phrase she had uttered not long ago, Ibara laughed good-naturedly.

“Well,” she smiled invitingly, “I think we have established that I am used to doing things unbecoming of _my_ stature.” His lips curled upward into a smirk. Ibara shifted so that she was facing him fully as his hand pushed further against her cheek. She inhaled deeply in expectation as his face began to enclose on hers. Fumikage’s gaze trained on her lips, which parted slightly in preparation. The tip of his nose brushed against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed so that she could abandon herself in the feeling of their lips melding together.

Ibara released the breath she had been holding in a slow, contented sigh. Fumikage’s lips were soft and supple as they worked against Ibara’s mouth in hesitant, gentle motions. It was a sweet and chaste kiss but not without incredible feeling. When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open, and she regarded him bashfully. He observed her with similar shyness, and he squeezed her hand firmly.

However, before he could say anything, the servant called from the porch. Though the young girl probably couldn’t see them in the dappled shadows of the large wisteria, the two nobles separated a bit and let go of one another hands to avoid any undue scolding. Fumikage shouted back to acknowledge they had heard the servant’s summons before looking at Ibara with a wan smile.

“Are you ready? It seems our parents have agreed on the final preparations.” Four hours ago, a pit of dread would’ve balled up Ibara’s belly, and nausea would’ve tainted her answer; now, after spending this short time with the young samurai, she was remarkably at peace. She stood and brushed the grass bits from the skirt of her kimono, and then breathed in calmly.

“Yes. I am ready,” Ibara nodded and exhaled a deep breath. She cast him a pleasant smile and extended her hand. “Walk in with me?” she requested hopefully. Fumikage raised an eyebrow at her, weighing the options. Their parents would likely disapprove of their closeness; after all, it was improper to be so intimate before one is married. He decided that he didn’t care and grasped her hand, using the other to grip his sword and use it as leverage to push himself up. Ibara flushed when he interlaced their fingers and smiled affectionately at her.

“All right, then. Let’s go.”

The wisteria flowers kissed Ibara’s face and shoulders as she walked through them, almost as if they were offering her their congratulations. The doused her in their floral perfume and deposited their small lavender petals in her long hair. The pond bubbled a little louder as she passed, or so she imagined, like it was celebrating the union to come. Smiling shyly, she rested her head on Fumikage’s shoulder as they approached the porch. He didn’t say anything, but instead leaned his head against hers with a slight nuzzle, threading his raven hairs with her jade ones. 

“Do you think they would consent to letting us marry under the wisteria? It’s such a splendid tree.” Fumikage chuckled and nodded his head, making their hairs twist further together.

“I am sure that can be arranged.”

They walked into the house, and so began the first moment of the rest of their hopefully blessed days together…


	24. Pikachu, I Choose You!

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Kyoka Jiro, Denki Kaminari

Requested By: Spoilerz_Alert (Ao3)

"Nonononono- Ahhh, Denki, _nooooooo_!" 

Kyoka rubbed her eyes sleepily as she shuffled down the last few steps of stairs. Hanta's miserable wail floated out of the kitchen, making her ear jacks twitch as she registered the high-pitched sound. Metallic clangs and muttered curses followed, and when Kyoka approached to inspect the chaos occurring in the kitchen, she also could discern Denki's characteristic low-toned "yayyyyy."

She smothered a giggle as she rounded the corner to find the aforementioned blond seated at the table, drooling a little as he pushed his upturned thumbs through the air. Hanta was carrying the fried remains of their toaster over to the trash can. He tossed the blackened, sparking metal into the bin with an annoyed grunt, then slammed the lid closed. "God damn it, Denki! That's the third one this semester! Mr. Aizawa'll probably start making you pay for them!" he scolded. 

"Yayyyyyyyy," responded the short-circuited boy jovially. Hanta rolled his eyes and collapsed against the counter with an exaggerated sigh. 

"I just wanted some toast," he lamented woefully. His head lolled over to watch Kyoka as she strolled into the small kitchen. "Mornin'." 

"I see Chargebolt here has apprehended the toaster villain yet again," the girl quipped playfully. Denki's head bobbled on his neck like a baby's as he mindlessly ogled at her. As Kyoka raised an eyebrow at him, he cooed and gave her his thumbs-up motion. Kyoka smiled, unable to not find his addled state comical and endearing, and walked over to affectionately ruffle his yellow locks. "Great job, buddy. You saved us from a real _menace_." Denki released a bubbly laugh and flopped forward, forehead striking the table. 

"Fuck, did Pikachu fry the toaster again?!" Katsuki cursed as he stomped into the kitchen to find the boy slumped over and still constantly humming "yayyyyyy!" When Hanta and Kyoka nodded solemnly, the volatile blond angrily kicked the nearest chair and tromped over to the pantry. He ripped open a box of corn flakes and shoved his hand into the bag to grab a massive handful of the crunchy cereal. He pushed them into his mouth, a few missing the mark and clattering down to the floor, while glaring at Denki. "Fucking hell. I just wanted some fucking toast," he grumbled with full cheeks. 

"Me tooooo!" Hanta cried exasperatedly and threw his arms up in an irritated gesture. "The world's against us today." Denki blinked slowly and lifted his head to peer at Katsuki. 

"Yay?"

"'Yay,' indeed, moron," Katsuki huffed and shoved another handful of corn flakes into his mouth. "How the fuck does he keep fryin' the damn thing, anyway?" Passively listening to their conversation, Kyoka hunted through the various drawers for a can opener so she could peel the lid off the canned peaches she wanted for breakfast. 

"When he stays up all night gaming, he's super tired in the morning and can't control his Quirk!" Hanta answered with a pointed glare at the clueless blond, who nodded sagely and confirmed with a succinct "Yay." Not that he knew what they were even talking about. 

“Dumbass Pikachu,” Katsuki grumbled under his breath. Just as Katsuki uttered his nickname for Denki, Kyoka spied a few washable markers in one of the kitchen drawers. A mischievous ploy bloomed in her head, and so with a playful grin, she plucked up the red marker and uncapped it with her teeth. Katsuki raised an eyebrow at her as she crossed the kitchen and sat down in the chair beside the dazed Denki. “Uh, what are you doing?” 

“A little payback for the toaster,” Kyoka mused. That was her reason for them, but at the moment, Kyoka’s mind was absorbed with how absolutely adorable Denki would look like a cute little Pikachu. She chuckled to herself as she put the marker to his cheeks. Hanta and Katsuki watched her with wide eyes as Kyoka scrawled two oval shapes on Denki’s cheeks with the red pen, and dotted a cute little rounded triangle on the tip of his nose. They all snorted as Denki blinked incomprehensibly and hummed, “Yay?” when Kyoka finished. Sniggering, Kyoka snapped a picture and used her phone’s editing function to draw a pair of Pikachu ears and a zig-zaggy tail on him. She sent it in the students’ group chat, and Hanta and Katsuki’s phones pinged. They both burst into laughter when they opened up the message. 

“That’s _rich_ ,” Katsuki snickered, admiring Kyoka’s handiwork even as he shoved the cereal box bank into the pantry. By this time, Denki was beginning to regain his senses, blinking rapidly. It took him a moment to register Kyoka’s presence beside him. After he finally returned to his baseline state, he groaned and rubbed the side of his head. 

“Aw, man, did I fry the toaster again?” 

“Yup,” Katsuki confirmed as he strolled out of the room, apparently not wanting to hang around for the pending conversation. Denki whined self-loathingly and flopped forward against the table. He opened his phone to read the notification and shot upright when he saw the picture. 

“What the-! _Hey_!” he whined loudly. Kyoka stifled giggles with her hand as Denki opened his front-facing camera. “Not funny!” he complained, poking at the red ovals decorating his cheek. The marks made the pout he tossed her exceptionally cute. “You’re so mean, Kyoka…” 

“What? I think it’s adorable,” she complimented jokingly. Denki just groaned and pushed his cheeks around, smearing the edges of the circles. “Relaaaaax,” she laughed and nudged him lightly in the ribs with her elbow. “It’s washable ink. You don’t have to go to class like that.” 

“Thank God!” he exclaimed with relief, rising promptly from the chair. “I don’t think I could face Aizawa like this!” 

“Like what?” Denki jumped a foot in the air at the teacher’s sudden appearance; the dark, broody man hovered in the entranceway to the kitchen, clutching an empty mug that smelled faintly of coffee. Aizawa stared levelly at Denki as the boy gawked at him like a deer struck by headlights. Aizawa then just sighed and proceeded to the coffee pot to refill his cup with the bitter brown liquid. He mixed in a faint amount of sugar and then turned to stare blatantly at the blond boy while sipping at the beverage. “Pika-pi,” he said monotonously before sauntering off. As Kyoka and Hanta collapsed in hysterical laughter, Denki’s face turned a shade of crimson. 

“Yeah, yeah, you guys, laugh it up,” he mocked irritatedly as he made to leave as well. “Next time I’m frying the toaster on purpose!” he called as he rounded the corner. Kyoka nearly fell out of her chair as she tried to get up and follow. Holding her belly, she staggered to the wall, holding onto the edge as she shouted after him. 

“Denki! Come on; it was a joke! You’re not mad, right? _Right_? … Denki?” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Denki was obviously mad. 

Kyoka squirmed uncomfortably in her seat as she discreetly stared at him from across the classroom. He’d refused to speak to her since that morning, and had even resorted to avoiding her. They usually walked to class together, joined by Momo and Hanta, but when she’d joined the three on the front porch, he’d stomped off by himself, insisting he wanted to walk alone. He’d arrived to class first, and when she’d cheerfully greeted him, he’d ignored her. Groaning, Kyoka flopped forward onto her desk, not even bothering to get a head start on the English homework they’d been assigned. 

_ I’m so stupid…  _

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, much to her surprise. She sat up to brush her fingertips over her eyes, which widened when she saw them glistening with salty tears. Hurriedly, she asked Present Mic if she could be excused and scurried off to the restroom. She slipped into a stall, locked it, and sank onto the toilet with a mournful sigh. _What’s happening to me? Why am I so upset?_ She thought wildly as she rubbed at her eyes to stifle the tears. They stopped, but only just. 

Sure, maybe Kyoka’s prank wasn’t in good taste, but normally she’d just wait for someone to come around rather than moping over the silent treatment. But this was _different_. She couldn’t _stand_ that Denki was angry with her, and it hadn’t even been six hours. The tears rolled down her cheeks as she fidgeted on the toilet, nervous energy causing her to twitch endlessly. She pulled up the damning photograph, and couldn’t help but smile at his adorably dorky expression. She laughed shakily and swiped her thumb over the screen, causing it to zoom in a little. _He’s just so cute he makes me stupid…_

Kyoka squeaked aloud and sat bolt upright in the chair, dropping her phone in the process. She didn’t even rattle over the fact that the screen might have shattered. Her mind was shattering with a startling realization. _Could I… Could I have a crush on Denki?!_ It was ludicrous. Ridiculous. Impossible! … And yet, as she thought of the boy, her heart fluttered in her chest. Groaning, she ran her hands over her face. _And now he’s super pissed at me,_ she lamented. It was no wonder she hated the fact that he was angry… She was crushing on him, and only wanted to be in his good graces. 

“All right, Kyoka. Get out of your head,” she huffed, knocking on her head with both of her hands for emphasis. “Just calm down and be reasonable. All you have to do is apologize… That’ll smooth things over.” How could she apologize, though? She didn’t know if she could wait all day to corner Denki alone. “Drop some hints. That’s all you have to do,” she huffed doubtfully. Anxiety bubbled in her belly, making her a little nauseous. “That’s all you have to do,” she repeated, as if doing so would strengthen her will. 

It was much easier _said_ than _done_. 

“Okay, Kyoka. Just relax. You got this,” she murmured under her breath. After returning from her solitary pep talk in the bathroom, the lunch bell had rung. She had just exited the line and was searching for a seat- a _specific_ seat. Denki was settled with Hanta across the room. Kyoka’s eyes locked onto the empty booth seat across from them. After sucking in a breath like it was liquid courage, Kyoka speedily crossed the lunchroom and plopped her tray down in front of Denki, probably a little too harshly. Denki peered critically at her from under the strands of his bangs. A blush began to crawl up her neck. Much more calmly, she slid into the seat and cleared her throat. 

“H-Hey, Denki.” She saw the corner of his mouth twitch and hoped that was a sign he would break his silence. His gaze then dropped to his beef stew, and he swirled it around disinterestedly, steeping the rice in the thick broth. Kyoka swallowed, not one to be deterred, and pushed her tray forward slightly with a finger. “I know you much you like egg pudding,” she offered with a gesture to the little jiggly pudding sitting at the edge of the tray. “I don’t like it, but I thought you might like another, so…” she trailed off, hoping the boy would get the memo. His eyes were lidded as he studied the egg pudding. Silently, he reached out to take it off her tray and put it on his. He then resumed mindlessly stirring his stew. 

Hanta’s eyes shifted rapidly between the two of them, a noodle hanging out of his mouth. He slurped it up and then quickly stood, announcing that he was going to see if he could pilfer some more ramen from someone before running off like the Devil was behind him. Denki said nothing, but Kyoka saw his body tense uncomfortably. 

“Denki, I’m sorry, okay?!” she blurted before the boy could try and escape. “I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that. I just… I _just_ …” She couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation aside from she just thought he would look cute, and she sure as hell couldn’t say that. Denki’s golden eyes flickered up from the stew to stare fixedly at her. She slumped down in the booth seat at the harsh edge of the bright gold depths. “ _I’m sorry_ ,” she repeated meekly, tears rising to her eyes without realizing it. “I’m just stupid…” 

“ _Kyoka_ ,” he sighed, and the sound of his voice made her heart sing. He pushed the trays aside to reach across the table and grab her hand. He stared at it as he swept his thumb over the soft skin, and every caress sent fire flying through her nerves. Her cheeks burned pink, but Denki was seemingly oblivious to the romantic implications of his gesture. “You’re not stupid.” The smile he flashed her made Kyoka melt into a relieved puddle of mush right there, but she couldn’t help but object. 

“Denki, I took that dumb photo, and it was _insensitive_ , and-”

“It’s okay!” He laughed with a dismissive wave of his free hand. He then looked bashfully down at the egg pudding she’d given him. “I mean, I was a little upset at first, because… I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s all you think I am. Some dumb, _stupid_ Pikachu.” Before he could continue, Kyoka interrupted with her free hand flapping around wildly. 

“Oh, Denki, _no_! No, no, no! I just… I, um… Bakugo kept calling you Pikachu, and I just…” Growing meek, she slumped down into the booth until her shoulders hunched up to her ears. “I couldn’t help thinking about how _cute_ you would look as a Pikachu…” Denki’s eyebrows nearly touched the roots of his hair as he gawked surprisedly at her. He then flashed her a brilliantly bright smile. 

“Oh, so _that’s_ it?” Kyoka used her free hand to cover her bright red face as much as she could, embarrassed by how pleased he was at the prospect. Still holding her hand, he grabbed a fork and took a big bite of the egg pudding while Kyoka nodded admittingly. He seized his phone and pulled up the photograph, then smirked. “I guess I _do_ look pretty adorable,” he reasoned with a wink at Kyoka. The girl’s headphone jack ears wriggled nervously, a bit unsettled by his one-eighty in mood. He dropped the phone and smiled sweetly at her. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I shoulda just been a man and talked to you about it instead of giving you the silent treatment.” Kyoka’s throat bobbed as she swallowed the relieved sob rising in her chest. 

“Yeah, but… Fair’s fair, I guess,” she said guiltily. She flushed red as Denki leaned across the table to use his thumb to wipe away her tears. 

“No! Even if I was upset, taking it out on you like this was petty. As Kirishima would say, it wasn’t very _manly_ of me.” His light-hearted tone all but forced Kyoka to give him a hiccupy laugh. How could she stay sad with the sunny boy around? Still, she couldn’t help but feel just a little bit blue; though he was gently sweeping her tears away, she could tell just by the look on his face that it was a purely platonic gesture. Still, she couldn’t help but lean a little into his touch, making her chin brush lightly against the heel of his palm. “I’ve got an idea,” he suggested with a bright smile. “How about tonight we watch a movie, huh?” 

“J-just the two of us?!” she squeaked, blushing at the high-pitched tone of her voice. Denki didn’t notice, nodding enthusiastically. “O-okay…” She was relieved that he was no longer irritated with her, but she couldn’t help but think that she was jumping out of the frying pan only to land in the fire.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kyoka had landed in the fire _indeed_. 

Her body burned with a fierce blush as she sat on the end of Denki’s bed, unable to focus on the anime movie playing on his television screen. He’d insisted on sharing a blanket, and so there she was, snuggled up under the covers with the oblivious blond and feeling like she would spontaneously combust at any moment. Denki lay on his stomach with his cheeks pushed into the palms of his hands. His ankles crossed over behind his back. Jiro was sitting upright beside him, hugging her knees to her chest and sweating nervously. 

_ Just play it cool, Kyoka… Don’t be weird…  _ she encouraged herself frantically. With every passing second, she was terrified that Denki would notice the damp puddle of perspiration surely forming under her. She had to suppress a squeak when Denki shifted positions, sitting up beside her and tugging the blanket to enclose them in a suffocating bubble of heat. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth until the skin shredded a little. She’d only realized she was crushing on the boy less than eight hours ago, but now it was all she could think about. When his arm inadvertently brushed against hers, she couldn’t take it anymore. Squealing, she jumped out of the covers to stumble out onto the floor. 

“Kyoka? What’s up?” Denki blinked owlishly at her as she panted heavily. Every inch of her skin felt like it was submerged in lava. Part of her was frustrated that he wasn’t picking up on the undeniable signs, but the other part of her thought she’d surely _die_ if he posed the possibility of her crushing on him. The turmoil of the day had fried Kyoka’s brain to charred mush, so she could only sink into one of his bean bag chairs with an agonized groan. 

“I don’t… I just… I need a minute,” Kyoka whined miserably. Denki blinked slowly, then peeled the blankets off himself and timidly crawled over to her. She peered through her eyelashes at him as he approached cautiously, her cheeks growing redder with every inch he crept closer. 

“Kyoka… Are you feeling okay?” he inquired with a suspicious look. Sure that her cheeks were the shade of tomatoes, she groaned and looked away ruefully. She rubbed at her face, flinching at the sheer amount of heat radiating off her body in suffocating waves. “You’re acting weird,” Denki continued with a concerned tone. “Look, I promise I’m not mad at you.” 

“It’s not that,” she admitted through the fingers laced over her lips. She stared intently up at the ceiling with shaky eyes. Was she really about to confess this? “Do… Do you know… Why I was so upset at the fact that you were mad at me?” Denki grunted, and she could tell by the way his clothes shifted that he was rubbing the back of his neck puzzledly. 

“Well… I dunno… I was a little shocked at how sensitive you were about it.” The bean bag creaked as she wiggled uncomfortably in the embracing soft bag of beads. 

“I… Well… I couldn’t stand the idea that you were mad at me because… because…” Her throat closed up, preventing her from forcing out the words though she desperately wished she could just spit them out. Her chest felt like a great big balloon had swelled up inside her, pushing on her chest wall to make it impossibly tight. Denki waited patiently for her to continue. Kyoka just _couldn’t_. Frustrated tears began to burn her eyes, and she desperately tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Whining in agony, she clamped her hands down over her eyes, praying the darkness would push her over the edge into a confession. It didn’t. 

“Kyoka?” Denki’s voice was soft, inquisitive. She heard him crawl around the edge of the bean bag to sit on his knees beside her. She whimpered as his fingers began to pull at her own, slowly prying her hand away from her left eye. Hesitantly, she cracked that eye open to see him smiling amusedly. “You’re not trying to say that you _like_ me, are you?” She pulled her bottom lip under her teeth and chewed anxiously on it, debating whether to admit it or start vehemently denying it. After a few seconds, she managed a tiny nod. “This better not be some kinda cruel joke.” She squeaked and started sputtering refusals at his deadly serious expression. Then, in the next second, he was laughing animatedly. 

“ _Denkiiii_!” she whined, red-faced, and punched him in the shoulder. He kept cackling even as he rubbed the now sore area. 

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help but get a little payback,” he chuckled. Kyoka settled down after a minute, but her face continued to burn. He smiled affectionately; it made her heart thump loudly in her chest. “I like you too, Kyoka. To tell ya the truth… Being angry with you made me so miserable I couldn’t stand it.” 

“Really?” she asked in a small voice, and he nodded. 

“Yeah. That’s why I couldn’t stay mad,” Denki said gently. His hand rose to cup Kyoka’s cheek, and she pressed her face into it, relishing the soft skin of his palm embracing her. “I could never stay mad at you.” 

“Even when I do stupid stuff?” 

“Hey,” Denki snorted, “considering I’m the world’s leading expert in stupid stunts, I can cut you some slack for the occasional lapse in judgment.” Kyoka giggled. Her body sung with a bubbly champagne-like high that sent her mind floating into blissful, foggy euphoria. 

Denki leaned forward to press his forehead against hers, eyes lidded as he smiled lovingly. “You haven’t smiled all day,” he remarked, catching her off guard. “I love it when you smile.” His compliment made the small smile on her lips stretch wide across her face. His thumb caressed the arc of her cheekbone as he stared deep into her eyes. 

“So are you gonna kiss me orrrrrrrr what, _Pikachu_?” His eyebrow cocked at her blatant request. Kyoka’s cheeks tinged pink at her boldness, but she levelly held his stare, challenging him. Denki smiled impishly, but then leaned in, pressing his mouth to hers in a lingering sweet kiss. Kyoka hummed approvingly at the pleasant sensation of his soft lips molding over hers. The movie they were watching was long forgotten as they basked in the glow of each other’s presence and the bliss of young love blooming between them. 

_ ~Bonus~ _

Kyoka’s smile was bright as daylight as she stared into her phone screen; Momo could see it across the room. She approached Kyoka from behind as the girl lounged on the common room sofa, feet kicked up over the back and reclined against one of the throw pillows. 

“What are you smiling about?” Momo inquired as she leaned over the arm of the couch. Kyoka was staring at her lock screen. It was a photo of her and Denki; they had marker on their faces- red ovals on their cheeks, and a little rounded triangle on the tips of their noses. Brown-tipped, long, pointed yellow ears and zig-zaggy tails had been scrawled in the background with her editing app. They looked so happy together, pressed against one another as they smiled for the camera. Momo smiled, glad to see her best friend so madly in love. Kyoka tipped her head back over the arm of the couch to grin blissfully at Momo. 

“Oh, you know… Making plans. Denki wants to go out to eat tonight.” Momo hummed approvingly and leaned down, pressing her cheek against the top of her friend’s head as she hugged her loosely. 

“I’m happy for you, Kyoka. You deserve it.” 

“Thanks,” the noirette said and glanced back to her phone to respond to a message from Denki. “So, when are you gonna start going out with Todoroki?” 

_ “I-I beg your pardon?!”  _


	25. Just Like the Movies

Category: Romantic Fluff

Characters: Momo Yaoyorozu, Yosetsu Awase

The gentle ruffling of book pages filled the library. Momo sat at one of the many mahogany tables arranged neatly between the towering book stacks, contributing to the quiet symphony of the learning area with the occasional flip of the math textbook before her. Occasionally, she would add the soft scribbling of her pencil across notebook paper as she riddled out the complicated equations of the practice problems. A serene smile remained on Momo’s face as she basked in the peaceful atmosphere of the learning commons; just her and her brain, that was how she liked to study. 

Momo glanced up as a loud chiming suddenly replaced the academic sounds floating through the spacious library. She looked to the large black-and-white clock hanging on the wall behind her head to find that it had just turned nine o’clock in the evening. Curfew started at ten p.m., so Momo decided that she best get along to the dorm lest she lose herself in her math practice and accidentally overstay her welcome in the learning space. _Mr. Aizawa isn’t one to accept excuses,_ she sighed quietly as she slipped her note-covered pieces of paper into the book to mark her page. She flipped the textbook closed and slid it into her bookbag, securing the clasp before gliding her arm under the strap to drape it over her shoulder. The heavy pack bumped against her hip as she rose from the chair; the weight of knowledge was a heavy burden indeed, for the pressure made her shoulder twinge in protest. 

Tutting, Momo adjusted the strap of her book bag to distribute the weight better and smiled when the pressure on her shoulder muscles lessened. _Can’t be a hero with a dislocated shoulder!_ She joked and chuckled at her wit. The bag thumped rhythmically against her thigh as she strolled purposefully through the collections of tables and chairs. Momo occasionally greeted some of the students she recognized from Class 1-B that were also in the process of preparing to go home for the night, using muscle memory to deliver her to the glass front doors. As she pushed them open and stepped out into the night, she was in high spirits. 

A booming clap of thunder and a bright flash of lightning startled her right out of it. 

“Oh my!” she squeaked and clapped her hands over her ears as the thunderous cacophony threatened to explode her eardrums. Cracking an eye open, she pouted at the sheet of rain that separated the library entrance awning from the sidewalk and parking lot. The water streamed down like a massive waterfall, so fast and hard that Momo couldn’t see through the wall of liquid. Momo retrieved her cell phone and pulled up the weather prediction, swearing to herself that the morning forecast had indicated clear skies and warm weather all day. Whether or not that was accurate, the prediction now stated that thunderstorms would saturate the area until six the following morning. “Oh, dear,” she sighed and slipped her phone back into her book bag pocket. “I guess I’ll just have to make an umbrella,” she decided and began undoing the buttons of her button-up shirt. 

“Um… Yaoyorozu?” 

“Eh?” she cried and turned around, still clutching the second-to-last button of her shirt between her fingers. The boy who had spoken, Yosetsu Awase, gawked open-mouthed at the stellar shot of her cleavage for a micro-second before realizing what he was actually gaping at and hurriedly craned his head back. Blushing fiercely, he rubbed at the back of his neck and studied the woven fibers of the awning over their heads with an intensity. “Oh, hello, Awase!” she chirped, still not recognizing that she was standing in front of him with her bra and belly completely exposed. 

“I… uh… So you didn’t bring an umbrella?” he questioned. Momo knitted her eyebrows at the high-pitched, stressed tone of his voice. 

“Yes! It seems I should be more vigilant in checking the weather forecast,” she laughed good-naturedly. “I was just about to create one- _Oh my goodness, Awase, I’m so sorry!_ ” she shrieked and slammed the opening of her shirt closed when it finally dawned on her why he was so embarrassed. A fire blazed over her cheeks as she trained her gaze on her shoes, taking note of the many scuffs and scrapes on the toes to try and detract from the sheer mortification she was feeling. When Yosetsu cleared his throat, she peered through her thick lashes at him to see him smiling wanly. 

“Hehe, it’s okay.” He released a choking sound when she narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him. “I-i-i-i mean, it’s not _okay,_ n-n-not like that, I just- I didn’t see anything Yaoyorozu, fuck, I _swear_ -!” he sputtered while waving his hands placatingly. Momo stared at him for a second, really just teasing the jumpy boy, before laughing mirthfully. 

“It’s okay. Thank you for your honesty,” Momo smiled, stilled clutching the white fabric over her bust. “But um, I kinda need to make an umbrella, so could you…?” Yosetsu stared blankly at her for a second before he realized what she was asking, and his eyes blew wide. 

“Oh! _Oh_! I don’t mind, but, um, I was gonna, um, I was gonna just say that my umbrella is big enough for two,” he answered and held up a large blue umbrella as proof. His cheeks shone like pink opals as he stared intently at the rubbery tool. “Fuck-! Um, I didn’t mean for it to sound so weird! Shit… Uh…” he spluttered under his breath and hugged the umbrella to his body as if to shield himself from Momo’s possible disgust. Momo giggled at his adorable flustering; it reminded her a little of Izuku, to be honest, and it was amusing to see the brash and bold Yosetsu so perturbed. The boy stared at her pitifully as she straightened up. 

“That’s kind of you. Are you sure? I mean, it really won’t take anything for me to make one.” Really, there was no sense in Yosetsu wasting his time to walk her to her dorm, as it was a few minutes out of his way, and Momo could easily make herself one with her Quirk. Still, Momo found herself intrigued at the idea of walking home in the rain under his umbrella. She flushed a little as her mind envisioned scenes from the romance movies Mina always watched with her; being caught in the rain and walked home by a boy wasn’t exactly an uncommon trope… Yosetsu flashed her a bright smile. 

“Of course! I’d be happy to escort you home.” Momo nodded amiably and turned her back so that she could button her shirt back up. Once she had secured the last button near her neckline, Yosetsu walked up beside her. The raindrops struck the rubbery material of the umbrella with loud thumps as he opened it up into the thick sheet of rain pouring down in front of them. He propped the umbrella up against his shoulder, and the broad umbrella enveloped them both comfortably. “Shall we?” he asked with a lop-sided grin. Momo giggled, entertained by his goofy tone, and nodded. Together with the umbrella to protect them, they stepped out into the deluge. 

The rain drummed insistently against the covering, filling the air with a rhythmic pitter-patter. The water sloshed around the soles of Momo’s dress shoes as the water swirling inch-high over the sidewalk. The current carried with it leaves and small twigs which the wind had flung from the surrounding trees. As the umbrella bobbed with Yosetsu’s steps, his bicep occasionally brushed against hers, and it sent the most titillating tingle coursing through her nerves. She had to fight the urge just to plaster herself against his side to feel his warmth against the cool, rainy evening air. Gulping as she tried to keep her wits about her, she eyed him out of her peripheral vision. 

“So… Do you come to the library often?” She flushed when the words fell from her mouth because it almost sounded to her like a lame pick-up line. If Yosetsu found it absurd, he didn’t show it; the boy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. 

“Not as often as I should,” he admitted with a bashful grin. “I was cramming for a history test tomorrow… Ta be honest, I dunno if the cramming did any good, but we’ll see!”

“Well, Awase, if you ever need any tutoring, I’d be more than happy to help!” Momo responded kindly. Yosetsu flashed her an amused smirk. 

“Wow, Yaoyorozu, you’re such a model student.” Momo blushed under the praise, pressing the palm of her hand against her heated cheek. 

“W-well, you know, I’ve just always been studious,” she stammered shyly. The quiet settled back between them, scattered only by the insistent rain drenching the world around them and their splashing footsteps. Momo wrung the strap of her shoulder bag between her hands as she desperately searched for a topic of conversation. _This isn’t like the movies at all… It’s so awkward!_ She wracked her mind for something, _anything_ to say, until she landed on something practical. “Awase, I… I never got the chance to thank you for saving me during the Summer Camp.”

The terrifying ordeal had occurred several months ago, but the incident still haunted the young first-years, Momo included. Some nights she awoke in a cold sweat, panting heavily as the fear bled from her eyes and the horror of looking death in the face melted back into the darkness. She cast her gaze to her feet, watching the ripples spread across the thin layer of water with every step she took. “I really could’ve died… By all rights, you could’ve left me for the Nomu… But you didn’t. You were willing to die alongside me.” Recounting his heroic deeds made her flush slightly. Yosestu was silent beside her, and to fill the void of silence, she timidly repeated, “So… Thanks.” 

When Yosetsu sucked in a deep breath, she peered through her lashes at him. He craned the umbrella back; the rain dripped from the edges of it in fat drops, streaming down to look like a beaded curtain strung with pure crystal. Yosetsu’s dark eyes trained on the roiling gray sky, and his lips pursed together in a flat, thoughtful frown. His jawline was pronounced against the small amount of light leaking through the barrier of the clouds, and Momo found herself fixating on the handsome features she’d never noticed before. His brown hair peeked out from beneath the blue-and-white bandana he always wore. His skin shone in the low light, catching on his cheekbones. Momo never thought she’d find a man beautiful, but… he was _beautiful_. 

That’s why she barely noticed when he spoke. It was only the subtle flicker of his gaze to her that she even registered the words. 

“ _Jeez_ , I…” His voice faltered. Though he’d spent several seconds searching for words, it seemed that he lost them before he even got the chance to save them. “I just _reacted_ , y’know? I was scared as fuck, but the idea of leavin’ you behind…” He turned fully towards her, gazing into her eyes as he swallowed thickly. “I knew I’d _never_ be able to live with myself if left you to that fuckin’ monster, Momo.” 

Momo was too busy reeling over his intense gaze and sweet words to even flush at the coarse language. On instinct, she drew in a breath, but she never released it; she held it in her swollen lungs, too captivated by Yosetsu’s unyielding stare. She could barely see his hand clenching and unclenching by his hip. Momo wasn’t sure when, but they’d stopped walking. Side-by-side, safe from the pounding rain under the bubble of the umbrella, they simply stood there. 

Yosetsu’s hand twitched, and then it slowly, _oh-so-slowly_ , rose to cup her cheek. Momo’s eyes fluttered as she instinctually leaned into his touch, relishing the sensation of his calloused palm against the smooth skin of her cheek. The breath she’d been holding slipped out as a contented sigh, and Yosetsu gave her a pained look, like she was so breathtaking it _wounded_ him. He gulped again, and as trepidation entered his shaky eyes, Momo worried she’d never know what he was about to say. 

“What is it, Awase?” she whispered, just a ghost of a breath. “Please… Tell me what you’re thinking right now _._ ” He opened his mouth and let it hang open, gathering breath for what he was about to say. He frowned, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth- and then he spit it out before his confession had the chance to run and hand. 

“I think that I would _really_ like to kiss you right now, Yaoyorozu.” Momo wasn’t quite sure what she had been expecting, but she certainly hadn’t anticipated something so forward. She felt her cheeks blaze red with a fierce blush, but despite how bashful she was feeling, Yosetsu’s gaze held her captive. Electricity tingled through her nerves as he swept his thumb lightly over her cheekbone, and her heart fluttered like a fledgling bird taking its first flight. “Ever since that summer camp, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. How just fuckin’ _gorgeous_ and _smart_ and _amazing_ you are, and-” he trailed off. Subconsciously, she wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue. Yosetsu’s smoldering eyes didn’t miss the action, and his gaze dropped to her lips to focus on them with a rapture. “ _I’d really like to kiss you_ ,” he repeated in a strained groan. 

“ _I’m waiting_.” 

Yosetsu didn’t waste any time. His face dove down to press their mouths together in a heated kiss. Momo had no experience with kissing, but it felt like Yosetsu did, because the way he moved his lips rhythmically over her own had her heart singing in soprano in seconds. He dropped the umbrella in the heat of the moment, cupping her face with both hands as he angled his head to push the kiss further. Her body was sparking with sensations, and the rain splashing down onto her body to drench her hair and skin and clothes only added to the symphony her frantic nerves were performing. The tip of his nose occasionally bumped against hers with every sweep of his greedy mouth. She pushed her hands into his rain-slicked hair, threading her fingers under the damp bandana to scratch at his scalp in fiery passion. Dimly, in the back of her lust-fogged mind, she fancied that this moment was _just_ like the movies. 

When they broke apart, they were both panting. Their hot breaths fogged in the humid air in the small space between their faces. Yosetsu leaned in again to press a few more light, chaste kisses to her cheeks and lips. Under his sweet caresses, Momo felt no less than the most sublime creature on Earth. 

Slowly, the high dwindled, and they realized they were drenched from head to toe. 

“Oh, shit. Goddammit. I’m sorry, Yaoyorozu!” Yosetsu whined and leaned down to pick up the umbrella. He scowled at it for a second, debating whether continuing to use it was even worth it, before deciding to fold it up. Momo just laughed pleasantly and swept her dripping bangs from her face. 

“It’s fine. I feel kinda refreshed!” she teased. When Yosetsu smiled shyly at her, she fluttered her eyelashes demurely. “Also, considering we just kissed, you can call me Momo, you know.” He let out a choking sound and tugged at the collar of his uniform shirt. “And I’ll call youuuu… Yosetsu?” 

“That’s fine!” he squeaked. Momo giggled and reached down to grasp his hand, tugging on it before setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. 

“We’d better hurry! If we stay out here much longer, we’re liable to catch a cold.” Yosetsu’s steps were bungling as he adjusted to Momo’s sudden movement, but he soon caught up and fell into step with her. Feeling a bit emboldened, Momo continued to hold his hand and pressed the side of her body against his. Warmth flushed from her shoulder to her hip, chasing away the chill that threatened to seep into her body. 

Smiling, Momo excitedly anticipated telling her friends about her encounter that was just like the movies.


	26. Of Comfort and Cup Noodles

Category: Hurt and Comfort 

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Fumikage Tokoyami

Requested By: generic-goblin (Tumblr)

Ochako hummed happily to herself as she watched the cup of instant ramen slowly spin in the microwave. Her brown eyes focused on the bubbling water slipping out of the lid to roll in steaming droplets down the patterned plastic side. Her mouth watered as her mind danced with visions of soft noodles, hearty vegetables, and tender meat. She’d scored some high-scale ramen at a supermarket sale, so Ochako vibrated with excitement, simply _dying_ to taste the fancy noodles from which she was typically barred. She watched the seconds tick down with mounting excitement. Before the microwave even had a chance to beep with the finished countdown, she popped the machine open. 

“ _Oh my Goooooood_ ,” she exhaled exultantly as the aroma of cooked ramen wafted up her nose. Her eyelashes fluttered with ecstasy just smelling it, so naturally, her tastebuds tingled in rapt anticipation. Using a dishtowel to transport the hot cup, she scurried over to her small table and set the cup down. Wielding her chopsticks in one hand, she slowly peeled the lid back and watched with dilated pupils as hot steam billowed from within. The noodles looked simply perfect bobbing in the light brown broth, and a thick slice of chicken surrounded by green onions, spinach, and carrots practically screamed at her to be eaten. Laughing almost maniacally with exaltation, she plucked the meat from the broth, which dripped deliciously from its off-white surface. Ochako blew on it briefly before slipping it into her mouth. With a delighted, muffled squeal, she melted against the floor, having achieved nirvana with just one bite. 

“Soooo gooooood,” she groaned blissfully. The ramen was seasoned to perfection, and the healthy blend of vegetables only added to the delectable taste. She flopped back up and began digging into the ramen with gusto, savoring each swathe of noodles with airy giggles before inhaling some more. She was so enraptured with her meal that she didn’t notice that her phone was ringing until she almost missed the call. 

“Hello? Hello?” she cried into the phone as she hurriedly picked it up, her voice slightly distorted from the noodles still shoved into her mouth. She quickly swallowed, beaming when her mother voiced greeting on the other end of the line. “Oh, hi, Mom! What’s up?” she asked and pushed the ramen aside to hold conversation properly. They made pleasant small talk, but there was a particular strain in her mother’s voice that had Ochako’s nerves buzzing suspiciously. When her mother abruptly sighed, Ochako inquired, “Mom? Is everything all right?” Silence hummed in the other end of the line for several seconds. 

“I don’t know, ‘Chako,” her mother finally admitted in a small voice. Unnerved, Ochako tucked her legs under herself and narrowed her eyes. 

“What is it?” 

“Your father… His company lost a really, really big building deal.” Ochako gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth in shock. Her mother’s voice shook tremulously as she struggled not to cry, but Ochako could practically hear the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “He’s been working _so hard_ to score this contract for three months… But the investors went with someone else. It’s already so difficult finding projects in the winter,” her mother lamented woefully. “This was our only shot. I don’t know what we’re going to do, Ochako. The bills are mounting up, and I just… I _just_ …” Her mother trailed off into bitter sobs. 

“Mom, it’ll be okay,” Ochako offered weakly. She wanted to help her mother, but the fear crept up, spilling a dreadful cold feeling through every inch of her body. “You know… It always is,” she continued lamely. Ochako struggled to offer encouragement to the weeping woman, but every forced reassurance fell pitifully short. After about five minutes of weak consoling, her mother quietly thanked Ochako for listening and assured her not to worry about her parents’ financial struggles. By this time, her body had gone painfully numb. Ochako couldn’t even feel her limb moving as she slowly lowered her cell phone to the table. She stared down at the half-finished bowl of ramen, and her belly twisted with nausea. 

Guilt swept through her like a tidal wave. Sure, she’d gotten the ramen on sale, but she’d still splurged and spent an extra dollar or two on the package. How could she be so selfish when her parents were literally struggling to make ends meet? Shameful tears burned in the corners of her eyes; as they slipped down her cheeks, they felt like lava, searing marks into her skin. She pushed the cup away, no longer able to bear the thought of finishing it. She had no right.

Ochako pressed her face into her palms as sobs gripped her body. “Oh, Mama… Oh, Papa… I’m so sorry!” she cried petulantly. In her anguish, she didn’t think to quiet her crying, and instead wailed openly. Mina’s room was down the hall, and the bubbly pink girl frequently spent her evenings in the first-floor common area, so by all rights, Ochako thought no one would hear her sobbing. 

That’s why the light, timid knock at her dorm room door nearly startled her out of her skin. 

“Uraraka?” The wood muffled the voice, making it difficult for her to hear who exactly it was, but it sounded like one of the boys. “Uraraka, are you… okay? I heard… I heard you crying.” Ochako shakily stood up and swiped at her face, trying to conceal the evidence of her misery. 

“I-I’m coming!” she cried, stumbling over herself to get to the door. In her clumsiness, she banged her shin against the corner of the table. She swallowed a pained squeal and stood there for a second to let the burning pain subside. “J-just a second!” she called, her voice now several octaves higher, as she slowly limped to the door. She tossed her hair from her face as she opened it, forcing a bright, fake grin on her face. “Oh, hey, Tokoyami!” she cheerfully greeted the feathered boy standing at her door. 

Fumikage inspected her critically. 

“Uh… Are you okay?” Fumikage asked suspiciously. Ochako’s cheesy grin didn’t falter as she leaned casually against the door frame, mentally cursing as her shin flared with pain once more. 

“I-I, of course, why wouldn’t I be okay?” she asked with a nervous chuckle. Fumikage’s red eyes looked her up and down, drinking in her very disheveled appearance. 

“Uh-huh…” he droned disbelievingly. “Well, I was just at Shoji’s room,” he explained while pointing over his shoulder, “and when I was heading to the stairs, I heard you crying… pretty loud…” 

“Are you sure it’s not Mina? She’s been soooooo stressed about the upcoming winter finals.” 

“Mina’s downstairs.” 

“Ummm, someone’s television could be on…” 

“Please stop lying to me, Uraraka. I’d rather you just tell me that you don’t want to talk about it.” Ochako’s plastic smile fell from her face immediately to crash at her feet like porcelain, making her nerves prickle up her legs. Fumikage’s eyes had taken on an irritatedly concerned aura, and it felt like those ruby irises bored straight into her soul. Ochako’s bottom lip wobbled as she stared at him culpably.

 _I **do** want to talk about it, _she realized sadly. With a troubled sigh, she stepped aside and tiredly gestured for Fumikage to enter. He hesitated a second, jerking as he debated stepping over the threshold, before stiffly walking into the room. Ochako swung the door closed and then walked over to her bed, where she slumped onto it like a bag of lard. 

Fumikage leaned against the wall opposite her and crossed his arms, capturing her in an intense but not judgemental gaze. “So, what happened?” Ochako played with her fingers for a minute before answering. 

“My parents are having money problems…” she admitted in a tiny voice. “My dad works in construction, and he just lost a huge contract that would’ve floated them through the winter. It’s hard to get work during the winter season because the cold makes construction work difficult… They were really relying on this contract, and now, my mom isn’t sure they’ll be able to make their bills.” Her lips trembled as she slid her teary gaze to the now lukewarm cup of gourmet ramen on her table. “And here I am… splurging my allowance on stupid gourmet ramen while my parents are _struggling_ ,” she moped with a sob and buried her face into her hands. “I’m so selfish and greedy!” she wailed. 

“Uraraka!” Fumikage cried, and she could hear him stumble forward by the sounds of his unsteady footsteps over the wood floor. Ochako peered through her fingers to find him standing in front of her, hands fluttering around her form but too nervous to actually touch her. Eventually, he grabbed her wrists to gently lower her hands from her face and rest them in her lap. Muted, Ochako allowed the boy to manipulate her body like a puppet, finding a strange comfort in his guiding movements. Fumikage exhaled deeply and sank onto the bed beside her, pressing himself slightly against her in a soothing fashion. “Uraraka… You aren’t selfish _or_ greedy.” 

The girl cast another remorseful glance at the cup ramen on the table. Before she could voice opposition, Fumikage gently grabbed her chin and turned her face back to him. A blush crept into her cheeks as his fingers slowly fell from her face in a gentle caress. “You’re _not._ Your parents’ troubles aren’t your fault, and so you don’t need to punish yourself with guilt over some _ramen_.” Hearing it out loud solidified how absurd her feelings were, making her snivel. She shifted nervously and looked down at her lap. 

“You’re right… How silly of me…” 

“It’s not silly,” he objected with a kind smile. When Ochako looked up at him, he turned nervous and twiddled his fingers. “I-I mean, it’s not uncommon to feel bad and shoulder the burdens of your parents…” he explained quickly. “But I’m sure they don’t want you to do that. I’m sure they’d much rather you be smiling and enjoying yourself,” he said with another look into her face. Ochako blinked, surprised by the wisdom of his advice, and then smiled warmly. 

“Yeah… You’re right. Thank you,” Ochako said. She genuinely felt a lot better, and she rose from the bed to stretch her arms over her head. “I feel loooooads better!” she crowed. Tokoyami jumped at her sudden outburst, but then chuckled and stood up beside her. 

“I’m relieved.” 

“You’re so kind for coming to check on me, Tokoyami,” Ochako beamed, clasping her hands behind her back and smiling radiantly at him. Fumikage flushed and nervously shifted his feet with shy mumbles. When he mentioned something about excusing himself, Ochako grabbed the hem of his shirt. “No, no! Please stay. If you’re not doing anything else, of course,” she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes. If his face wasn’t covered in dark black feathers, she was sure his face would be beet-red. “I’ve got another packet of that gourmet ramen. We can share it.” 

“What? No, Ochako, I couldn’t-” he began to stammer, but in that moment, Dark Shadow sprang out of him with a delighted squeal. 

“Ramen! Ramen!” the shadowy spirit demanded insistently. Ochako giggled and patted the bird-like spirit’s head, then proceeded to prepare two more packets of the ramen for them. Fumikage flapped anxiously around her as she filled the two noodle cups with water. 

“O-Ochako, you spent money on that… I simply couldn’t!” he protested. Ochako ignored him as she popped the first one into the microwave. 

“Nonsense,” she said while starting the timer. She looked over her shoulder at him with a sweet smile. “You helped me deal with my bad news. Besides, a meal is always better when you have someone to share with!” Fumikage blinked at her, then resigned himself to the situation with an amused smile. 

“Yeah. You’re right. Thanks.” Ochako hummed happily, and together, they watched the ramen cup spin slowly around the microwave- but they were too absorbed in trading smiles to count down the seconds.


	27. Face Your Fears

Category: Romantic Fluff

Characters: Momo Yaoyorozu, Shoto Todoroki

The tip of Momo’s tongue stuck out from between her glossed lips as she carefully layered the thick nail gel over the little stub of her pinky toe. Once she had covered the small surface with a sheen of the glittering, ruby red polish, she stretched her toes and wiggled them experimentally. _There! All done!_ she thought gleefully and reclined back against the couch. She propped her feet up on the coffee table so they could dry, then looked around to see how the other girls were progressing. Likewise, most of them had finished painting their nails, various colors shining on the clear, manicured surfaces. 

“This was a good idea for girls’ night, Tooru!” Ochako hummed as she admired the bubblegum pink polish decorating her fingernails. The invisible girl, traipsing around the sofa with spring green nails seemingly hovering in thin air, giggled happily as she grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. 

“But of course! You feel like a new woman when you get your nails, hair, and make-up done!” Indeed, the girls had been spending the last several hours down in the common room, doing each other’s make-up and hair. Momo sported a set of bouncy curls; she wasn’t used to having her hair down, so she kept compulsively sweeping the corkscrewed hairs from her face. Tooru climbed over the side of the couch to sit beside Mina, who was waving her hands about to dry to pastel yellow polish that complimented her bright pink skin. “Mina, Mina, did you rent the movie?” 

“Sure did!” their classmate responded and carefully plucked a DVD case from the table. “Ta-da! _Halloween Slasher 3_!” she grinned wildly and flipped the container around to show a masked man brandishing a chainsaw. Momo snickered disbelievingly. 

“Oh, _no_ , not another one of your slasher thriller movies!” 

“Wahhh! Minaaaaa, you know I don’t like those,” Ochako whimpered and pushed her face into a throw pillow with a keening whine. Mina jumped up and down on the couch cushions, completely ignoring Ochako’s meek protests. The girl hopped up and scampered over to the DVD player to pop the disc in, and the whirring of a chainsaw accented by creepy music blared out of the speakers. Ochako squealed at the grotesque splashing of fake blood on the screen. “Noooooo! Hold me, Kyoka!” Ochako wailed and buried herself into the dark-haired girl’s lap. Kyoka scowled surprisedly as the brunette suddenly snuggled into her, but soothingly stroked her tresses of honey-brown hair. 

“Jeez, Ochako, you’re such a fraidy-cat.” Mina whooped ecstatically as she pressed “play” and walked over the couch and coffee table to plop back down beside Tooru. As the introduction began to play, Shoto came strolling out of the kitchen, sipping at a mug of steaming black tea. 

“Hello, ladies. Girls’ night?” 

“That’s right, Todoroki! Sorry, but you can’t join!” Mina grinned over the back of the couch, winking and sticking her tongue out at him. Shoto chuckled and commented that he would never dream of it, but as he whirled on his heel to return upstairs, Momo spoke up. 

“Oh, but I think it’s a little rude not to offer, don’t you?” she fretted, laying a hand against her cheek. “I think we can make an exception, right, girls?” She grimaced a little at a poorly-timed maniacal laugh and scream of chainsaw blades. Shoto peered over his shoulder at her with heterochromatic eyes widened in curiosity. Momo flushed on reflex; Shoto’s gaze was never anything less than intense, with those orbs of piercing blue and stormy gray. 

“I don’t care,” Kyoka shrugged, staring idly at the screen with morbid fascination. Ochako just cried pitifully into her lap, causing Kyoka to stroke her back again. “There, there. It’s not real blood, Ochako.” 

“Todoroki, do you like scary movies?” Tooru grinned as the red-and-white haired boy approached the arm of the couch on which Momo was seated. The boy glanced at the flickering screen with raised eyebrows. 

“I’m indifferent to them. I don’t really find them scary- but I’ll keep you girls company, if you like. It’s not like I have anything better to do,” he responded simply. Momo scooched over a little as he eased himself down onto the couch beside her. The cushion dipped with his weight, making her slide in so that her thigh brushed against his. While Momo blushed fiercely, Shoto only glanced at her out of his peripheral vision. He calmly sipped at his tea, and, still gazing at her, said, “So, you guys did makeovers, did you?” 

“That’s right? Don’t I look beauuuuutiful, Todoroki?” Tooru crooned. Shoto couldn’t see anything but the nail polish the invisible girl was sporting, but he still politely agreed. However, when he said it, he was staring intently at Momo. He reached up to tug lightly on one of the curls framing her face. 

“Very beautiful,” he smiled slightly. When Momo’s face flared red, he suddenly realized what he was saying and snatched his hand away. Blank-faced, he returned to his tea, but Momo could feel his body stiffen beside her. 

“Todoroki, Todoroki!” Mina beamed, draping herself over the arm of the couch to smile giddily at him. “If scary movies don’t scare you, what does?” Shoto blinked and put his hand on his chin thoughtfully. 

“Nothing, really.” Momo found it exceptionally odd, but his gaze slid to her again, and his response almost sounded lifeless. 

“Aw, come on,” Kyoka whined. Her eyes remained glued to the screen, watching the fake blood fly in arcs as the chainsaw maniac went to town on the innocent and ignorant protagonists. She was avidly listening to the conversation despite her rapt focus. Ochako peeked up from her lap, teary-eyed and white-faced from fright. 

“You mean _this_ doesn’t scare you?” she sniffed with a gesture at the television screen. As another burst of homicidal laughter came from the television screen, she screamed and jumped up in Kyoka’s lap to bury her face into the crook of her neck. Kyoka, unfazed, patted Ochako’s head reassuringly. 

“Nope,” Shoto quipped and sipped at his tea again. “I don’t find things like this scary.” 

“What about bugs? Creeeeeepy crawly bugs?” Mina asked, wiggling her fingers to mimic the spindly legs of a centipede. Shoto shrugged indifferently. 

“They’re _just_ bugs.” 

“Clowns?!” Tooru gasped with her invisible hands over her mouth, as indicated by her polished nails. Shoto laughed airily. 

“Why would I find some goofy guys with big shoes and gaudy make-up frightening?” Mina giggled at his response and returned to the movie, squealing with laughter when a girl bungled over her feet and tripped. 

“Bahaha! You _moron_! Why are you running in those heels?” Shoto chuckled to himself, amused by Mina’s enthusiasm. 

The girls continued to interrogate Shoto about his fears, listing every common phobia that they could think of, but he deflected them with cool, focused ease. At some point, he finished his tea and reclined back against the couch with his hands behind his head. As he responded to Tooru’s question concerning whether or not he was frightened by spiders that wear flip-flops, Momo tucked her legs against her body as a slight chill gripped her. It seemed the dormitory’s air conditioner had kicked in, spreading cold air throughout the room. As she shuddered, she unknowingly fell against Shoto’s right arm, making him stop short in the middle of his sentence and glance at her. It took Momo a minute to realize why he was so startled, and when she did, she began spluttering apologies. 

“F-forgive me! I trembled a little and lost my balance; I didn’t mean anything by it!” Her friends were watching her with expressions of devious amusement, which made Momo blush all the harder. Shoto’s frosty eyes fixed on her with an unsettling intensity. 

“Yaoyorozu… Are you cold?” 

“A-a little,” she admitted timidly. He blinked slowly at her, then reached behind them to grab the throw blanket folded over the back of the couch. Momo sat there, electrified, as he calmly unfurled it and draped it over her shoulder, pulling it together just under his chin. When he smiled kindly at her, Momo felt her heart jump right into her throat to choke her with blossoming affection. “T-Todoroki,” she smiled bashfully and looked down at his fingers where they held the blanket shut. She reached up to take the cloth from him, and their fingertips brushed for just the slightest second. Such a simple touch, but it sent electricity shooting up her arm like liquid lightning. 

“Better?” Shoto asked quietly. Entranced, Momo nodded without realizing it. 

“Better…” Both of them stiffened when someone cleared their throat. Both of their heads whipped to the side to see Mina staring brightly at them with a giddy smile splitting her face. 

“Gettin’ _chummy_ , are we?” Shoto and Momo turned identical shades of crimson. 

“No!” They exclaimed simultaneously. Mina wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and continued to grin at them as she slunk back from her position on the arm of the couch. Momo retreated into the confines of the blanket, deeply embarrassed, while Shoto grimaced and tried to push himself into the gap between the couch cushions and the frame. Silence settled between them, interrupted only by Mina’s snickers and the grotesque sounds pouring from the television. Eventually, the slasher movie ended, and Mina peeled herself from the couch with a loud yawn. 

“Ahh, that was fun! <3 Let’s watch the fourth one next week!” 

“You mean there’s _more_?” Ochako wailed in dismay and looked at the pink girl tearily. “Please! I can’t take it! Can’t we watch a rom-com next week or something?” Mina _tsk_ ed and waggled her finger at Ochako as she squatted out to remove the disc from the DVD player, then grinned. 

“I’m kidding, ‘Chako! Of course we can watch something cute next week.” Ochako exhaled deeply in relief and melted over Kyoka, who was scrolling through her social media feed now that the film had ended. Mina tossed the DVD back onto the coffee table to return to the rental kiosk later and stretched her arms above her head. “Ooooo-kaaaaaay! I’m off to bed, ladies! Girls’ Night Plus Todoroki was fun!” Shoto smiled at Mina.

“Oh, yes, I had a good time.” 

One by one, the girls filed out, leaving Momo and Shoto alone. Neither of them made any move to rise from the sofa; they stared dully at the blank black screen. Momo had begun to sweat within the confines of the thick blanket, so she shrugged her arms out of it, letting it cover her legs. The silence deafened her, ringing in her ears, so she broke the silence before she could go insane. 

“Todoroki… I’m glad you decided to join us tonight,” she offered lamely, looking up at him. He grunted and continued to gaze levelly at the television, so Momo studied his profile. _He really is pretty,_ she thought absentmindedly as she drank in his sharp jawline and silky two-toned hair and gorgeous heterochromatic eyes. When the blue one flickered to her, she blushed pink, but found herself unable to look away. Slowly, Shoto turned to face her, and retook one of her curls to rub it softly between his thumb and forefinger. 

“How could I refuse when such a beautiful girl asks me to join?” Momo laughed nervously, thinking that surely he was teasing, but his expression remained deadly serious. Her spine straightened like a steel rod as his fingers traveled up the crimped length of her hair to brush over her jawline, then traced a path up to her cheekbones until he cupped her cheek. Momo drew in a breath as fireworks exploded through her nerves, painting invisible crackling lines all over her face. “You all wanted to know what I was afraid of.” 

“Y-yes…” she murmured and swallowed thickly. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, so loud that she thought surely Shoto could hear it. She shivered slightly as Shoto leaned in close, and her eyelashes fluttered as his warm breath puffed over her face. 

“I think I’m in love with you, and that _terrifies_ me.” Momo swallowed again as his expression grew slightly sad. His thumb traced arcs over her cheek in gentle motions. She licked her lips nervously, and then asked, “Why would that scare you?” Shoto smiled warmly, seemingly a little relieved that she hadn’t rejected him outright. 

“I;ve never felt so strongly about someone as I do for you… I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m afraid I’ll mess it up.” Momo couldn’t help but snicker a little. Shoto blinked at her, confused. She smiled affectionately and leaned into his touch, raising a hand to cover the one that held her cheek so tenderly. 

“You’re doing _pretty_ good so far.” Shoto chuckled. He inhaled deeply, then pressed his forehead to hers, gazing deep into her eyes. 

“You’re so beautiful, Momo.” The brazen use of her first name sent butterflies fluttering in her chest, spreading a bubbly giddy feeling finer than any champagne through her body. She smiled sweetly and pressed against him, bumping the tips of their noses slightly. Shoto’s gaze dropped to her lips, shiny with lip gloss, and he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “Momo… Can I…” He trailed off when he glanced back into her eyes, because his answer swam within the gleaming dark depths of her irises. Slowly, he angled his face, and both their eyes drifted shut as he pressed his mouth to hers in a sweet, titillating kiss. Momo hummed at the foreign but not unwelcome sensation of his lips sliding smoothly over hers in gentle ministrations. While his one hand remained on her cheek, his other trailed up her arm, leaving fireworks behind. 

They both sighed in contentment when he pulled away. Momo’s eyelashes fluttered as she came down from the small high, and then she smiled sweetly. 

“So? Still afraid?” 

“Not as much,” he laughed lightly. “Guess it’s true that it gets better when you face your fears.” Momo giggled, and once more, they grew lost in each other’s gazes. Just as Momo considered kissing him again-

“I KNEW IT!” The two sprang apart with startled yelps as Mina screamed from the entryway/ She was nearly sobbing as she filmed the two of them with her cell phone. “Momo, baby, you’re doing wonderful!” 

“ _Mina_!” Momo whined. Shoto had laid himself down on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, and resigned himself to a grim and embarrassing death. “This is what you call an _invasion of privacy_!” 

“Look, when you guys make bedroom eyes in front of us, you relinquish your right to privacy,” the pink girl shrugged. Momo’s face turned that much redder. 

“B-b-b-b-bedroom eyes?!” 

“Oi!” came Aizawa’s grumpy voice as he opened his bedroom door to glower at them. “It’s almost lights out. Stop screaming and go to bed!” He made to shut the door, then opened it back up and glared shiftily at Mina, who was whistling innocently. “And you- no extortion or blackmail.” As he slammed the door shut, Mina wailed and stamped her foot. 

“Booooo! You’re no _fun_ , Mr. Aizawa!” 

“What were you going to do with that footage?!” Momo exclaimed as she slapped her hands to her cheeks. Mina stuck out her tongue and giggled deviously. 

“You’ll have to find out~!” 

“ _Minaaaaaaa_!” Momo howled as the girl skipped off back to her room. Momo flopped onto her belly against the cushions, groaning. “How mortifying…” She had to smile at the girl’s shenanigans- at least they kept things interesting.” Humming, she rolled on her side to run her fingers through Shoto’s hair as he remained face-down on the floor. “You okay?” 

“I just want to die. Nothing unusual.” Momo snickered and played with the curling hairs at the base of his neck. 

“She’s only teasing. She probably won’t do anything with the video.” 

“But she’ll tell everyone and their mother,” he complained as he pushed himself up on his elbows and pouted at her. Momo giggled and cupped his face as he sat up on his knees in front of her. 

“Oh, yes, she’ll _definitely_ do that.” There was already a chorus of stomping steps and startled “Whaaaaaaat’s?” floated down from upstairs. Shoto groaned and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers, then smiled amusedly. 

“Ah, well. I suppose it can’t be helped.” Momo hummed affirmingly. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his nose. In response, he grabbed her waist and rubbed little circles into the plush skin there. He then grimaced uncomfortably. “I don’t want to go up there.” 

“Shoto, we can’t stay down here.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because! Come on. You’ve faced one fear; what’s another?” Shoto whined as she rose from the couch, letting the blanket fall from around her body. He remained kneeling on the floor, clinging to the hem of her nightshirt, and she nudged him with her painted toes. “Come on, Shoto. Better get it over with.” 

“Fiiiiiiiine,” he grumbled, obediently rising. He remained clinging to the hem of her shirt and pressed his face into her curled hair, nearly smothering himself. “You can do the talking.” Momo snickered and patted his shoulder affectionately. 

_Who knew Shoto had such a fascinating fear?_ She thought amusedly as she toted him up the stairs. _I would’ve never guessed…_


	28. Hanta Sero and the Goddess of Fun

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Hanta Sero

Sero’s eyes were lidded as he sucked absently on a popsicle stick that he had long since cleaned the mango sherbet from. As he drew it from between his lips with a small “pop,” he glanced up at the ceiling fan slowly rotating above his head. His black eyes traced the blades around and around with dull interest, which quickly dissipated into boredom. With a loud groan, he slumped down onto the couch until his shoulders rested against the couch cushion and his legs scrunched up. _This blows. I could be out having a good time right now, but…_ he complained as he began chomping on the popsicle stick like a hamster. He’d imprinted his teeth into the malleable wood by the time Mina came strolling in from the kitchen. 

“Aw, Hanta, you look bored out of your mind,” she tutted as she draped herself over the back of the sofa to smile pityingly down at him. 

“So glad of you to notice,” Hanta droned. He continued to bite down on the popsicle stick, finding some grotesque level of satisfaction from chewing on it. Mina hummed empathetically and bounced around to perch on the arm of the sofa. “I’m so bored!” he exclaimed and chucked the popsicle stick onto the coffee table, no longer entertained by the novelty. Hanta threw his arms up behind his head and pouted at the empty television screen displaying his warped reflection. He rolled onto his side to bat his eyelashes at the pink girl. “O, Goddess of Fun, please bless me with an activity to perform before my brain jellifies and oozes out of my ears,” he pleaded. _I need a distraction!_ Mina giggled and kicked her legs a little in delight. 

“‘Goddess of Fun’? You flatter me, Hanta.” She patted her pursed lips with the pad of her index finger as she contemplated. She then gasped and clapped her hands together. “I know! Why don’t we build a pillow fort?” At her suggestion, Hanta sat up with raised eyebrows. 

“A pillow fort?” he repeated. As he pondered the notion, a grin slowly spread across his face. “Yeaaaahhh… Yeah! That sounds like fun!” As he confirmed, Mina’s fingers flew across her phone screen, sending a message to their class group chat. Mina’s tone of voice would be bubbly, but participation would be all but required. The ceiling thumped with footsteps as the students slowly meandered out of their rooms with pillows and blankets in tow. Mina and Hanta hopped up to wrench the cushions from the sofas. As they pushed the coffee table out of the way to create an ample open space for their creation to come, Ochako came bouncing down the stairs; her arms were laden with blankets and pillows, and her eyes sparkled with unbridled delight. 

“I’ve never made a pillow fort before!” she gasped. When the brunette scampered over to dump her contribution onto the rug, Mina tutted and embraced Ochako, pressing her face into her chest and patting her head. 

“Our poor ‘Chako, so deprived of life’s great joys,” she crooned. Ochako blinked, her response muffled by the fabric of Mina’s tee-shirt smothering her mouth. Hanta grinned at them as he built the fort wall with the cushions and furniture frames. Ochako blinked again when Mina thrust her away and dove down to retrieve the pillows. “This is gonna be so much fun! ‘Chako, will you make some popcorn? We can stay up late watching late-night anime re-runs!” The brunette saluted the pink-haired girl before trotting off to the kitchen. The smell of butter and the sound of popping kernels soon filled the air of the living room. 

Hanta grinned at Mina as she began laying the pillows out on the floor to construct a large, bouncy layer for them to lay on. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this. It makes me feel like a kid again!” he laughed as he dragged a floor lamp into the center of the room to drape the blankets over it and make a circus tent-like structure. Mina nodded amiably from her perch on the floor. 

“It’s good to be in touch with your childhood!” Before they could say anything else, there was a yelp followed by the distinct series of thump indicative of someone falling down the stairs. 

“Ah!” came Eijirou’s voice. “Midoriya, are you all right, dude?” Hanta peered over the back of the couch. Izuku sprawled on his back at the base of the steps, cushioned by a mass of blankets and pillows. The only way that Hanta knew it was even him was Eijirou’s comment and the shock of pine-green hair peeking out from underneath a four-foot plushie of All Might. 

“Yeah,” the boy whined, shifting the gigantic stuffie to smile shakily as the redhead descended the steps with his pillows tucked under one arm and his blankets draped over the other shoulder. “I tripped over one of the sheets…” 

“Why the fuck do you have that ridiculous thing?” Katsuki scoffed, leaning over the banister of the steps to sneer at the green-haired boy. Izuku defensively hugged the hero plush as he sat up and pouted at the blond who was now rounding the landing. 

“It’s a pillow fort, Kacchan! I can bring my All Might if I want to!” 

“Oh, it’s so cute!” Ochako laughed delightedly as she strolled in with two buckets filled with popcorn. She set them down on the displaced coffee table so she could crouch down and admire the adorable rendition of the former number-one hero. “So big, too! How much did you pay for it?” Izuku’s cheeks turned red, and he began to mumble under his breath. At some point, he must’ve uttered the price because the color slowly drained from Ochako’s face, and she began to wobble from side to side in a fit of wooziness. Hanta frowned with a raised eyebrow. _Those things can run for hundreds of dollars… No wonder it’s given Ochako a conniption fit._ Izuku squeaked as Ochako stood and slowly staggered away, looking like her soul had abandoned her body from the shock. 

Izuku continued to clutch the large plush as he toted his mess of blankets and pillows over to Hanta. Once Mina arranged the pillows, Izuku plopped down in the corner, reclining against the plush and looking like an overjoyed toddler in a candy store. Katsuki had denounced Izuku’s plushie, but Hanta caught the blond staring intently at it like he was impossibly jealous. 

“Ah! It already looks so fun, everyone!” Momo called from the landing as she glided down the steps, her nightgown swishing around her feet and her massive down comforter stretching behind her like a bridal train. Hanta grimaced at the gargantuan blanket, sure that if he tried to drape it over the furniture, it would collapse. Momo trilled delightedly as she strode over, whirling the heavy blanket around with a girlish giggle. “Here, Hanta, will this do?” she asked as she piled the giant piece of fabric into his arms. He slouched down as his unprepared shoulders suddenly bore the weight, and his knees wobbled as he struggled to remain upright. 

“Hehe, yeah, Yaomomo… Thanks…” Momo clapped her hands together, clearly pleased, so Hanta absolved to find someplace for the gigantic comforter. The girl scampered off to assist Ochako in the kitchen, spouting something about finding a tea that goes good with popcorn. Hanta decided to stretch the comforter out on the layer of pillows; the down blanket was stupidly soft, and felt like a cloud under his bare feet. As he knelt amongst the pillows and blankets, he nodded approvingly; their pillow fort was coming together nicely. He smiled up at Mina as she bounced across the fluffy pillows to him. “This was a really fun idea!” 

“What can I say? I _am_ the Goddess of Fun,” she snickered matter-of-factly. She stood beside Hanta, draping the sheets over the furniture to begin forming their tent. “Though, I’m surprised that you’re stuck here tonight. I would’ve imagined that you’d’ve gone out with your family for your birthday.” Hanta’s cheeks suddenly burned painfully hot. He wildly glanced around to make sure no one heard, then tugged Mina down by her arm. She yelped as she was forced down into a squat, but he clapped a hand over her lips to keep her noises from arousing suspicion. “What’s the big deal?” she hissed when he removed his hand. 

“I didn’t want anyone to know!” he complained in a harsh whisper. Mina blinked confusedly at him, and Hanta grimaced uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Me and my folks had plans, but they fell through. It happens; I’m not upset about it.” The melancholy look that overcame his face told another story, so he forced a nonchalant smile on his face to prevent Mina from noticing. “I didn’t want it to be a big thing, okay? You and Denki are the only two who know about my birthday, so please, just don’t make a big deal?” he pleaded. Mina stared at him with lidded eyes as she contemplated the request. 

“All right. I won’t say anything,” Mina promised after a brief silence. Hanta sighed deeply in relief as she stood up to greet Tsuyu and Tooru as they came down the steps. Frowning, Hanta reclined back on his hands and stared down at the ornate stitching decorating Momo’s comforter. It wasn’t that he didn’t like big fancy parties or didn’t want his friends to know about his birthday. Hanta’d been really bummed out when the plans with his family had fallen through, and so he knew that if his friends did anything, he’d just be a killjoy because he wouldn’t be able to think about the fact it was the first year he couldn’t celebrate the occasion with his family. _I’d only ruin their fun. It’s much better this way,_ he reasoned glumly. It was logical, but it didn’t alleviate the dull ache in his chest. 

He forced a smile on his face as Tooru skipped over to dump an entire bin of stuffed animals into the center of the pillow fort floor. _I’d only ruin their fun,_ he repeated hollowly. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, the students were sprawled out underneath the tent of sheets stretched over the furniture, feasting on popcorn and snacks with their eyes glued to the flickering television screen. A blue glow enveloped the spacious tent, providing just enough light to see. They’d already had to duct-tape Mineta to the leg of one of the sofa’s because he’d tried to cop a feel on Momo. He’d kicked and screamed for a while, but soon contented himself with fantasizing over the two-dimensional girls running around the screen- so they’d duct-taped his mouth shut too. 

Hanta lay flat on his belly with his legs kicked up and his ankles crossed over his lower back. He watched the anime with mild interest with his mouth pressed into his forearm as his black eyes reflected the flickering images on the screen. He could dimly hear Katsuki griping at Izuku to get the giant All Might plushie out of his space and the boy struggling to maneuver the giant stuffed hero without collapsing the tent. Suddenly, the screen flicked off, and a series of affronted groans rang out in the small space. 

“Relax, relax, I’ll turn it back on in a minute!” Mina huffed as she crawled to the front of the pillow fort. “I have an important announcement.” Hanta sat up on his elbows, raising his eyebrows suspiciously at the pink girl. _What is she planning…?_ He wondered. He jumped violently when she procured a party popper and burst it open, spilling streamers and confetti all over the place. “Happy birthday, Hanta!” 

“ _Happy birthday!_ ” the group chimed, and the pillow fort rang with more exploding party poppers. Hanta flailed in shock as the metallic streamers and confetti bits rained down upon him, lobbing a few pillows around and tangling himself up in the blankets. The lamp pole clanged as he banged his hand against it, and as it wobbled precariously, the sheets dipped in a little. 

“Wh-what? Mina! What’s going on?” he whined as he rubbed the aching bones of his fingers. Mina giggled and waved the empty party popper at him. 

“Did you really think all of us didn’t know about your birthday? We were going to surprise you tomorrow, but considering the circumstances, I thought a little change of plans was in order.” Hanta blinked as Denki draped himself over his shoulders from behind to grin brightly at him. 

“Sorry that your plans with your folks fell through, dude- but did you really expect us to let you just sulk about it?” Hanta smiled sheepishly and shook his head. “Righto! Bring out the presents!” Hanta whirled around as Tsuyu and Fumikage began dragging small wrapped gifts from underneath the sofa. 

“What the-? When did you-?” 

“It’s all about _misdirection_!” Tooru giggled as she hugged one of her pink llama plushies. As they piled up the presents beside Hanta, the flap to the fort suddenly opened, spilling yellow light into the fort. 

“Am I late?” 

“Aizawa-sensei is in on this too?!” Hanta exclaimed in shock as the scruffy dark-haired teacher crouched down in the entrance to the fort. Mina clapped her hands excitedly. 

“Sensei, sensei, come on in!” The teacher slowly inspected the pillow fort stuffed with his students, debating his dignity. He then shrugged and shambled inside, dragging his sleeping bag with him, which made Hanta believe he was totally intending on crashing in the pillow fort to begin with. He wormed inside the sleeping bag and tossed a gift card onto the pile of gifts before zipping himself up. 

“What’re we watching?” 

“Gifts first! Come on, Hanta, let’s go!” Mina demanded ecstatically, crawling over to drop a present into his lap. Hanta laughed lightly and picked up the gift, shaking it experimentally to rattle whatever was contained within. He then paused to smile brightly, a few tears prickling in the corners of his eyes from how thrilled he was. 

“Thanks, everybody. This is the best birthday I could’ve asked for.”

“Stop being sappy and open the damn present!” Katsuki cried and whacked him in the head with a pillow. As Hanta doubled over, laughing and holding his head, Ochako began to scold him. 

“Violence is _not_ the answer!” 

“Yeah, but it is an _option_ ,” Denki grinned devilishly. He caught Ochako by surprise with a stuffed llama to the face, making her fall over onto her back and accidentally slap Momo in the forehead. The black-haired girl cried out and grabbed a pillow to whack both Ochako and Denki upside the head. 

“Stop it! We’ll collapse the fort!” 

“PILLOW FIGHT!” Mina yelled, completely ignoring Momo’s sentiment. Suddenly pillows and stuffed animals were flying everywhere, and all thoughts of gifts were abandoned. Aizawa had retrieved the remote and was now watching the anime with much interest, completely ignoring the carnage. As Eijirou whacked him in the face, Hanta fell onto his back, cackling as he held a pillow defensively over his face. 

Mina landed on her belly beside him, face red with breathlessness and exhilaration. 

“Not bad for the Goddess of Fun, huh?” she mused, ducked as Izuku crawled after Katsuki, who’d absconded with his precious plushie. Hanta laughed and nodded. 

“Yeah, not bad at all!” _Not bad at all,_ he repeated silently as a serene smile graced on his face. He then gripped his pillow and dove into the fray with a war cry. What better things did he have to do on a Friday night, anyway?


	29. Happy Birthday, Mina!

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Mina Ashido

Mina whined miserably as she paused on the sidewalk to stare up at the inky night sky. It was actually quite beautiful that night; only a few wispy gray clouds disrupted the glittering expanse of stars, which was clearer than usual. The white light from the full moon illuminated the shadowy areas that the dull yellow lamplight couldn’t reach, filling the world with a silver glow like gleaming fairy dust. On typical nights, Mina would probably find the sky beautiful and calming. Instead, she could only be irritated that she had to look upon it at all. 

“This sucks!” she exclaimed angrily and kicked a discarded soda can. The aluminum can bounced down the sidewalk several times before striking a trash bin with a metallic ring. Sighing, Mina trudged over to pick up the litter and toss it into the receptacle. She then groaned and planked against the light pole beside it, pressing her forehead into the iron-wrought, thin construct. “It’s my birthday…” 

Mina knew it was selfish to complain about the turn of events. By all rights, she should be grateful that she’d landed herself a small, week-long internship opportunity during the summer vacation. _But did it have to be the week of my **birthday**? _She complained with another disgruntled groan. She would only turn seventeen once! It was already bad enough that the students lived in the dorms even during vacation since the debacle at the summer camp the previous year, so she didn’t have much opportunity to celebrate with her family. 

“But now I can’t even celebrate with my friends,” she moped aloud. She glanced at her smartphone despite knowing it would depress her further. It was nearly midnight; no one would be awake at this hour. She’d hurried out early that morning to arrive for her internship, so she hadn’t seen any of her classmates that morning. “Oh well,” she sighed deeply and peeled herself away from the light pole. “There’s nothin’ for it. Gotta go home!” she encouraged herself. Heavy-hearted and exhausted, Mina staggered down the empty streets towards home. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m hooooooome,” Mina called hollowly as she shuffled through the dormitory doors. Not that she was talking to anyone in particular. She slipped out of her shoes and set them in the entryway beside the rest of her classmate’s shoes before hefting the suitcase containing her hero costume over her shoulder. The clock on the wall ticked the seconds by; a glance informed Mina that it was moving close to midnight, and her birthday would soon draw to an anticlimactic and melancholy close. Mina’s eyes were lidded as she scratched her cheek. Despite the tiredness plaguing her body, she had no care to go to bed in such a sorry state. She tossed the metal suitcase onto the couch, bouncing a few times before settling on the cushions. 

Her footsteps echoed in the empty halls of the first floor as she proceeded towards the kitchen. Snacks were always effective at chasing away gloomy thoughts. With the oncoming of night, the shadows had crept in to shroud the dormitory in its dark clouds. As she padded through the entryway, she fumbled for the light switch on the wall. She slapped the area uselessly for a few seconds, cursing under her breath, until she finally felt the smooth enamel-like covering under her fingertips. “A-ha!” she smiled triumphantly and flipped the switch. Light blazed in the room, flashing her vision a brilliant white. She flapped her eyelashes repeatedly to allow her eyes to adjust to the sudden illumination. 

That’s when everyone sprang out of their hiding spots. 

“ _Surprise! Happy birthday!_ ” they chimed in unison. A dozen party poppers exploded, filling the air with confetti and colorful streamers, and balloons flooded in from the other entrances to bounce joyfully across the ceiling. 

“ _Eeeeeeek_!” Mina screamed shrilly, drawing up one leg and shielding her body with crossed arms on reflex. Her eyes rolled around in her sockets, unable to focus on the sea of faces that has sprung up so suddenly. Slowly, her limbs inched down as the realization slowly dawned on her. “Oh… _Oh...!_ You guys-!” she hiccuped as sobs threatened to explode in her chest. Her eyes flooded with tears, and they quickly broke over the barrier of her lashes to stream down her cheeks. “ _You guys! Thank you so much!_ ” she howled and sprang forward to embrace the closest person, who just happened to be Katsuki. 

“What the-? _Oi_!” he exclaimed irritatedly, but made no move to pry Mina off as she wrapped her arms around his broad chest and squeezed him within more force than a boa constrictor. “O-Oi, Pinky, I can’t breathe-!” he groaned and staggered back into the kitchen table. Mina just continued to cry loudly with tears and snot pouring down her face. 

“I’m so _gratefuuuuuul_ ,” she moaned as she rubbed her face into the fabric of his tank top. Katsuki grimaced and pushed on her head to get her to stop. 

“Oi! Knock it off! You’re getting that shit all over me!” he whined. Mina ignored the continuous rough nudges of his palm into the side of her head, too busy wallowing in gratitude and happiness. Katsuki eventually relented, just resting his palm on the top of her head. “Sheesh… Such a crybaby…” he tutted. 

“Aw, Baku-bro, you’re so sweet,” Denki teased over the blond’s shoulder. Katsuki snarled like a rabid dog, making Denki squeak and scamper away to take solace behind Eijirou’s sturdy frame. “Eiji! Protect me!” The redhead laughed amiably and patted Denki on the head reassuringly. Mina finally managed to reign in her emotions and pulled away from Katsuki, leaving smudges of tears and snot all over Katsuki’s tank top. He looked down at it with a disgusted scowl, and while he was distracted, Hanta scampered over to strap a colorful, conical paper hat onto his head. As the string snapped taut against his chin, Katsuki scowled at the boy, baring his gums. 

“ _You guys_ ,” Mina repeated, pausing as a few more petulant sniffles slipped out of her. “You guys, I had no idea. I’m so _happy_ ,” she sniffed. The elated bubbliness still propagated through her body like champagne flowing through her veins, making it seem like she was floating on air. It was amazing how she coil go from horribly blue to overwhelmingly joyful in a matter of minutes. 

“You didn’t think that we would forget your birthday, did you, Mina?” Momo smiled as she strolled over. Mina shook her head vehemently, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands to finally cease the flow of tears. Momo flashed her a kind smile and brought her in for a firm but comforting hug. “We knew you’d be upset that you upset because your internship would prevent you from celebrating… So we planned this late-night party for you!” Momo gestured to the kitchen table, where a layered birthday cake sat surrounded by a pile of wrapped presents. Mina’s tears threatened to renew when she clapped eyes on the fruits of their friendship and generosity, but she managed to suppress them with a small whine. 

“That’s right!” Izuku smiled broadly and scampered over to fix one of the party hats onto her head. “Happy birthday, Mina!” 

“Hurry, hurry, light the candles!” Tooru cried, coming up behind Mina to all but push her into the chair in front of the cake. “It’s almost midnight! We have to sing to her before it becomes tomorrow!” 

“Tooru, is it really that big of a-” Fumikage started, but quickly snapped his beak shut when the invisible girl whirled around to shoot him an equally invisible glare. 

“Yes! Yes, it is!” Sato scrambled to light the seventeen candles decorating the birthday cake. Once they’d all been ignited with small, flickering orange-yellow flames, the students quickly circled up around Mina and began to sing, rushing the verses a little as the time inched closer to midnight. Mina squirmed in the seat, unable to suppress the big, stupid grin stretching across her face. Being sung “Happy Birthday” always gave one a strange sense of embarrassment and exhilaration. As soon as they finished, Mina leaned forward to blow the candles out. When the last flame sputtered and disappeared, the group of young adults cheered triumphantly. 

Their cheers morphed into startled shrieks as the blaring ring of an air horn blasted through the small space. Twenty-one pairs of owlish eyes whirled to the entryway to see their teacher standing there, holding the air horn and looking quite irritated. He said nothing, his gaze sweeping across the room until it settled upon the birthday cake. 

“What kind of cake is that?” he asked and promptly discarded the air horn. As the class laughed and began tearing into the birthday cake, Mina waited to eat her. Instead, she leaned back in the chair to drink in all the happy and smiling faces around her. After savoring the celebratory atmosphere, she leaned in to shovel the spongey cake into her mouth. 

_Totally the best birthday ever!_


	30. Spoiled

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Mirio Togata, Nejire Hado 

_Hey, everyone! I’m super happy to participate in the first MiriNeji Week! Here’s my story for Day 1, for the prompt “Confession”! Enjoy!_

Mirio inhaled sharply through his nose as he straightened his bowtie for the millionth time in the floor-length mirror spanning the back door of his closet. He flashed his winning smile to his reflection, but it crinkled at the edges, betraying his anxiety. _Come on, Mirio. You’re just going to tell Nejire that you love her. It’s not that big of a deal!_ he told himself in a pitiful attempt to psych himself up. It didn’t really work; his smile remained limp and strained, and his stomach continued to bubble with unease, spreading the bitter acid of apprehension over his tongue. _It’s not that big of a deal…_ he repeated like a mantra, running his arms over the fabric of his dress shirt. It was crinkled, because he couldn’t decide if he wanted to let the sleeves hang loose or button them around his elbows. In a last-minute decision, he clasped them at the elbows to display the bulge of his muscular arms and exited the room before he changed his mind again. 

Mirio had possessed feelings for the beautiful periwinkle-haired girl for some time now, but he’d always kept them to himself; life at U.A. was stressful, after all, and he hadn’t wanted to add to the chaos with a relationship. Graduation was looming near, however, and Mirio had decided it was high time to lay all his cards on the table and get an answer from Nejire. With some calculated smooth-talking, he’d convinced Nejire to go out with him on a “platonic friend date.” It’d taken every ounce of his charisma to persuade her against inviting Tamaki. He loved going out as a threesome, but having the boy along as a third wheel didn’t quite align with his plans for the evening. 

Mirio took the dorm steps two at a time, briskly descending the steps to the common room. A few male students jeeringly wolf-whistled at him as he strolled to the glass doors and adjusted his suspender straps. Mirio clicked his tongue and tossed them a sardonic grin, playfully snapping the fabric bands against his broad chest. 

“Mock me all you want, gentlemen, but who’s the one going out on a date here?” he taunted haughtily. 

“Yeah, but if we were going out, at least the girl would know she was going on a date!” one of them shot back pompously. A pink haze blossomed on Mirio’s cheeks as he was effectively had. Another round of raucous laughter echoed in the common room, making his face take on a deeper hue. 

“All right, all right, laugh it up,” he snapped irritatedly. One of his friends draped themselves over the back of the couch and winked at him. 

“All right, we rest our case. Seriously, Mirio, good luck. We hope it goes well.” Mirio’s small amount of ire immediately dissipated, and he grinned broadly. Before he could thank them for their well wishes, he heard wedges clunking against the wood stairs. He whirled around just in time to see the swish of Nejire’s white and blue floral-patterned dress as she descended the steps. His mouth fell open in a shameless gawk at the way her bright blue hair whirled around her shapely hips, and the way her eyes sparkled brightly above her happy smile. Mirio recounted Tamaki’s description of her after the school showcase, calling her a “fairy.” In that moment, Mirio thought the moniker fell dreadfully short, because Nejire was nothing short of a radiant goddess. 

“Ready?” she chirped as she skipped happily over to him. Mirio’s eyes fluttered a bit as he struggled to find his words, but after a second, he managed to return to his senses and utter a quick “yep!” With a cheeky grin, he offered Nejire his arm, and she cooed delightedly. 

“Oooh, Mirio, you’re really playing up the whole date thing, aren’tcha? Well, don’t mind if I do!” she giggled and hooked her slim arm around the thick muscle of his forearm. Mirio flashed the other guys a glare over his shoulder as they whispered and snickered under their breaths, then hurriedly pushed the glass door of the exit open before they could ruin his carefully crafted plan. Nejire pressed close to him as they walked out of the dormitory, a smile on her lips all the while. 

It was about six in the evening; the height of the day had long since passed, and so the air was pleasantly cool with just enough of the fading warmth of the sun to keep the temperature comfortable. The sun bubbled just above the horizon, eclipsed by the residential houses across the street from the massive school campus. With their off-campus passes tucked into the back pocket of his slacks just in case a patrolling teacher harried them, the two third-years proceeded towards the towering walls of the front gate. It was then that Nejire decided to speak up. 

“Soooo, Mirio, where are we going?” The blond flashed her a brazen grin. 

“Well, now, I’d hate to ruin the surprise,” he explained mysteriously. His will almost wavered when she poked her lips out in a displeased pout, but he remained steadfast. With a good-natured chuckle, he threw his head back a little and beamed proudly. “But I’ll give you a hint! I don’t skimp on dates, so I’m treating you to some first-class cuisine tonight!” Nejire trilled delightedly. 

“Wow, I feel so special!” she sighed dreamily as she laid her free hand against her light pink cheek. She fluttered her eyelashes and smiled jubilantly. “Keep it up, and I might be fooled that I really am your girlfriend, Mirio~” She was teasing, but Mirio couldn’t help but grin triumphantly to himself. He already had a foot in the door. 

_Little do you know, that’s exactly what I want, Nejire!_ With her pleasant attitude and positive responses, Mirio found his anxieties melting away. _So far, so good!_

The young couple walked the short distance to the downtown area, which was lined with a multitude of shops and restaurants. When Mirio stopped at a street corner where a building was ringed in iron-wrought fencing and laughter drifted out of a gazeboed outdoor eating area, Nejire exclaimed in awe. “Wow, Mirio, is this place what I think it is?” Mirio grinned proudly at the periwinkle-haired girl. 

“That’s right! It’s the highest-rated restaurant in the area. It’s been a while since someone treated you to a good time, so I thought, why not splurge a little?” he winked while nudging her in the ribs with his elbow. Nejire giggled, and though her demeanor was usually bubbly, Mirio could tell that she was really excited by the elated twinkle in her eyes. She tugged excitedly on his arm as she scampered through the gate, pleading, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” Mirio laughed joyfully at her excitement and trotted after her. 

Classical music floated on the air as Mirio and Nejire walked through the elegant glass doors. Mirio gave his name to the usher, who promptly delivered them to a table in the center of the spacious restaurant. Mirio graciously pulled back Nejire’s seat for her, making her smile pleasantly and throw him a demure flutter of her eyelashes. Mirio placed an order for two glasses of water after seating himself across from her, and then folded his hands on the table to smile broadly. “So? Living up to your expectations so far?” 

“Hmm, I would’ve expected a live band,” she shrugged teasingly. Mirio chuckled at her joke, and Nejire then smiled sweetly at him. “Thanks, Mirio. I really appreciate it. I’m enjoying myself already!” 

“Yeah, well, you’ll enjoy yourself immensely once we get some food on the table, if the rumors are true,” Mirio joked and picked up the menu to peruse the contents. This venue was one of the ritziest in town, and that was reflected by the impressive price tags attached to the various meals. Not that Mirio cared; his full intentions were to spoil Nejire, so he really wouldn’t care if he came out of this with his wallet much emptier. You only live once, though, right?

“Wow, that is an impressive salad,” Nejire praised with wide eyes when the waiter set a very aesthetically-pleasing bowl of mixed vegetables, grilled chicken, and tangy vinaigrette in front of her. Mirio had contented himself with some soup, and he smiled at Nejire as he gestured playfully at her with his spoon. 

“Told ya,” he chuckled. Nejire wiggled her shoulders as she sampled some of the crunchy leaves, throwing him a wink. 

“You sure know how to treat a lady, Mirio. How come you haven’t landed yourself a gal yet?” A sudden sweat bloomed over Mirio’s body, and he laughed as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, finding it already damp with perspiration. _Hehe, well, hopefully, I’ll have one by the end of the night,_ he thought. 

“Eh, y’know. Priorities,” Mirio answered vaguely and busied himself with his soup to save himself from further interrogation. Nejire eyed him suspiciously, but thankfully decided to deviate from her normal tendencies and drop the conversation. Mirio and Nejire were never one for awkward conversation, so they resumed the pleasantries soon enough, chattering all through dinner and dessert with bright smiles. 

After they stepped out of the restaurant with full bellies (and a flatter wallet, in Mirio’s case) into the twilight, Nejire propped her chin on his shoulder with a pout. 

“I don’t wanna go home yet! Let’s do something else, Mirio.” He brightened visibly at her suggestion. The dinner hadn’t really given him a good opportunity to profess his feelings, so her desire to continue out into the town afforded him another chance. The restaurant shared a border with a community flower garden. He gestured with his chin at the garden.

“How about there?” 

“Sure!” she cried. Mirio yelped when she yanked on his arm and forced him into a brisk walk. The iron-wrought gate creaked as Nejire pushed it open. The scent of damp earth and aromatic flowers immediately greeted them, making Nejire sigh in exultation. “They’re so pretty!” she cooed in delight. She released his hand to scuttle over to a rose bush, drawing her long, thick hair over her shoulder to lean down and deeply inhale the rich aroma of the bright red bloom. “Mmmm…” Mirio watched her with a sweet, endeared expression. Nejire tossed a smile over her shoulder, sapphire eyes gleaming. 

“Nejire…” Her name fell from his lips without him realizing it. The girl blinked and straightened up, running her hands over her beautiful light blue hair. 

“Yes?” Mirio gulped and shuffled his feet shyly, suddenly finding it difficult to speak. Nejire cocked her head to the side and strode over to stand in front of him. “Mirio? What is it?” He rubbed his sweating palms against his slacks compulsively, then abruptly grabbed both of hers. 

“Nejire… Tonight… It wasn’t just a platonic thing. Not for me,” Mirio admitted quickly. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Nejire’s face, so he stared at her hands, watching his thumbs slowly caress the tops of her dainty hands. He felt them grow rigid beneath his fingers. A sinking feeling rose in his belly when she tugged one of them away, but shock replaced it when she cupped his cheek. It slowly trailed down to his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. He found it kind, welcoming- _loving._

“That’s good. It wasn’t for me either.” 

“Really?” His jaw nearly hit the cobblestone path at her startling confession. Nejire laughed airily at his reaction. 

“I knew something was up when you were so insistent against Tama joining.” Mirio scowled, ashamed at his obliviousness. _Of course she would’ve known…_ Nejire smiled kindly and began stroking his jawline gently with the flat of her hand. “Don’t feel bad. I said yes, didn’t I? I really did have a great time and would love to go out with you again- as a _couple._ ” Mirio’s heart thumped against his ribcage with a great big leap, and his face turned as pink as the carnations behind him. 

“Ya mean it?” 

“Mhmm.” Mirio was still holding her other hand, so he grinned cheekily and brought it to his mouth to press a light kiss against her skin. Nejire’s eyes lidded as she watched him perform the intimate gesture. 

“I’ll be looking forward to it. How about next Friday?”


	31. Alone

Category: Romantic Fluff, Hurt and Comfort, Angst

Characters: Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido

Mina crouched down to peer around the corner of the hallway, her ears straining to catch the small snips of conversation drifting out of the room at the end of the hall. She could only catch faint snatches of information, like “ransom,” “heroes,” “hostages,” and “bomb.” The last word sent a cold chill through Mina’s body. Mina had been lucky to participate in the operation, as the hero she was interning for thought her ready for significant action. However, the investigation unit had only possessed a small amount of information. A group of bank robbers had taken the three floors of an affluent bank hostage. They had cleared the first two floors already and released the hostages, but there had been no explosives located. Mina narrowed her eyes as she remained crouched in the side hall. 

_Is there really a bomb?_ If there was, Mina would have to proceed much more carefully. The pro hero was still clearing the second floor and had sent Mina onward to collect information about the leader of the burglars, who was hunkered down in the safe room with one known hostage that who knew the combination of the safe. The heroes had stormed on the scene and prevented them from fleeing with the stacks of cash, and now they were holed up, arguing with the hostage negotiators over radio. Mina continued to listen to the snippets of conversation she could hear, but could divulge no usable information. _I have to get closer!_ she decided. 

Crawling slowly on all fours, Mina crept around the corner to slink down the hallway. Yellow light spilled out of the slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. With every foot that Mina proceeded forward, the conversation clarified; once she could hear the words entirely, she paused in the shadows to listen. 

“Boss, the heroes have taken the first two floors and are probably on their way up! The hostage negotiator said that another agency just arrived on the scene, too! I say we get outta here while we still can,” pleaded an underling. There followed a savage snarl, likely emanating from the throat of the irritated leader. 

“Boss,” crooned another subordinate, “you know what they say- ‘he who runs away lives to rob another day’!” Mina wrinkled her nose at the distasteful modification of the common saying. The boss snarled again. Mina jumped slightly as there was a loud bang, and a rolling chair came flying out of the room. It crashed through one of the windows and plummeted to the ground, accompanied by huge shards of glass. Screams floated up from the outside, and Mina hoped that no one had been crushed under the leather furniture or impaled by the glass pieces. 

“Damn heroes. Sticking their noses in where it doesn’t belong,” growled a deep, gruff voice which Mina assumed belonged to the head criminal. “Fine! Initiate Plan B. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Mina shuffled backward, further into the darkness, as loud shuffling and banging spilled into the hall. In the next second, a frightened young man with disheveled clothes and duct tape still binding his mouth and hands came sprinting out of the room. He rushed right past Mina to bound down the stairs, leaving behind glittering tears of terror. The thumping and rustling continued, so Mina crawled silently to the end of the hall to peek into the room. 

A gaping hole had been carved out of the wall, presumably by one of the robbers’ Quirks. The enormous metal safe lay open with large sums of money missing, as evidenced by the stray yen bills fluttering around the floor. Mina cursed loudly when she realized the criminals had fled already. She pressed down on the button on her earpiece to give report, but the pro hero’s voice cut in before she had the chance even to open her mouth. 

“Pinky? Pinky, do you copy? You _have_ to get off the third floor! The hostage says there’s an explosive planted in the safe room!” Mina gasped, and sure enough, she spied a large time bomb cemented to the desk on the side of the room, ticking down from five seconds. The young hero scrambled to her feet to stumble into the hall, leaping out of the broken window without a second thought. It was either jump from the third story and risk mortal injury, or falter and surely die in a fiery inferno. 

Just as she had cleared the building by about three feet, it exploded behind her. Mina screamed as the shockwave struck her square in the back, followed by chunks of brick, iron, and glass. The force caused her back to bow dramatically, and she swore she heard a sickening crack, but that could have been the debris raining down upon the sidewalk below. The roar of fire followed, and Mina’s skin grew unbearably hot as the bubbling flames licked at her exposed arms and legs. She could feel the fabric of the back of her hero costume fray and snap with the heat to expose her pink skin to the hungry fire. Black spots danced at the edge of her vision among waves of gray-white, slowly darkening her sight. Everything burned and ached and stung; her muscles wailed, or maybe that was her, shrieking in agony as the explosion tore her body to shreds. 

The explosion blasted her across the street at breakneck speed; Mina could see the building opposite rushing up towards her. She tried to mentally prepare herself to crash into the harsh, unforgiving brick construct, but really, how does anyone brace themselves to splat like a bug against a windshield? Mina had the strangest feeling that someone was calling out for her, but she couldn’t be sure with the wind roaring in her ears like a hurricane. 

“ _Mina_!” 

Mina’s stomach lurched as she abruptly jerked upward. The red brick of the building zoomed mere inches away from her face as she sailed against gravity. Barely clinging to consciousness, she could only gape at her legs flailing in the rushing wind, the concrete sidewalk and stunned crowd rapidly growing smaller. Her muddled mind took a few seconds to register that a layer of tape wrapped around her middle; a long swathe of the white tape protruded outward, pulled taut with incredible strength. Mina arched at the building’s height and was greeted by a brilliant, blue, cloudless sky. Then she was falling again. 

“Gotcha!” her rescuer cried as she flopped heavily into their muscular arms. She blinked rapidly, still struggling to comprehend the rapid chain of events that had transpired. However, even in her addled state, Mina could recognize the beaming grin shining down on her. 

“Hanta,” she croaked. Her throat burned terribly; it felt like she’d swallowed thousands of tiny glass shards which had torn her trachea into shreds. She coughed weakly, then groaned miserably as it made her aching chest muscles hurt that much more. Hanta’s strong arms held her like the most fragile porcelain, just securely enough to make her feel like she were in the world’s safest place. Suddenly, all of the emotions and fear and pain finally broke through the wall of adrenaline. Mina began to cry and hyperventilate. “H-Hanta… I… Ungh… _Hanta_ …” she babbled nonsensically between heaving sobs. Her chest swelled with gasping breaths; it felt like no matter how much she inhaled, she simply couldn’t breathe in any oxygen. Her vision began to flicker again. 

“Hey, hey,” the dark-haired boy cooed soothingly. His fingers felt cool and comforting as he swept her sweat-slicked hair from her face. “It’s all right. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” Mina curled into his chest with another deep, wallowing wail. Her fingers pawed at the spandex of his hero suit, desperate to anchor herself to something after being flung into oblivion mentally and physically. Hanta didn’t seem to mind; in fact, he read her intentions quite well. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his cheek. “I’m here, Mina. _You are not alone_.” 

His gentle, reassuring voice bled into Mina like a chill on a winter’s day. It soothed her overheating and frantic body. Gradually, her breaths became more even and less labored, and the dense fog lifted from her mind. Hanta crouched down as he held her tenderly, still pressing her hand to his face. “That’s it. That’s my girl. You’re okay,” he gently coaxed. Mina’s sobs quieted to small, muffled sniffles and the occasional hiccup. “ _That’s my girl_ ,” he repeated softly as he cradled her close. Mina breathed in his scent, a mixture of adhesive and citrus that was odd but pleasant, and felt calm flood through her body. She was safe. She wasn’t _alone_. 

Hanta used his tape to swing them from the building roof down to the street. The crowd engulfed them immediately. Concerned passersby, police attempting to gain control, avid journalists and photographers, and the members of the two hero agencies thronged around the heroic Hanta and the injured Mina. Mina whimpered and pressed close to her savior; all the noise and flashing lights were too much, too reminiscent of the roaring fire and crashing rubble. 

“Oi! Give her some space, will ya?” Hanta roared angrily. The screaming crowd immediately hushed, surprised by the outburst by the presumably amiable boy. The momentary distraction allowed the police force and heroes to rein in the mob and clear some space for the ailing girl. Shrill sirens blared in the near distance as an ambulance navigated the destroyed street. The entire front of the bank had collapsed with the explosion, spilling a mass of bricks, mortar, metal, and paper bills into the road. The ambulance stopped as close as they could, and the EMTs immediately jumped out to haul a stretcher over. Hanta briskly strolled to meet them. “She’s severely injured,” he told the paramedics while they prepared the cot. When Hanta went to lay her on the white cloth, she whined loudly and clung to him. 

“Hanta… No… Stay with me,” Mina pleaded. The horror was still so fresh in her mind; if he let her go, she’d plummet back into that confusing dark maelstrom.

“Hey,” Hanta tutted pacifyingly. “These guys are gonna take good care of you, okay? Come on.” Reluctantly, Mina peeled herself away from Hanta. He laid her on her side on the stretcher. She kept her hand against his face until the very last second, desperate to cement herself. Hanta leaned into her touch, smiling sweetly down at her. Though Mina was disoriented, she could still see the stark lines of worry etched into his face and the hesitancy swimming in his black eyes. “That’s my girl,” he said again, patting her scratched and bleeding hand against his cheek. Mina whined as the EMTs began to roll the stretcher away, and her hand was forced to drop into the open air. 

As soon as she was deprived of his touch, it seemed like the pain intensified ten-fold. 

Mina released an agonized howl as pain like fire bloomed over her back. She could dimly hear the paramedics conversing about glass shards and shrapnel embedded in her back and a possibly fractured spine. They applied a backboard when she began to writhe and squirm with anxiety and pain, which only served to inflame her panic. Her eyes rolled in her sockets as her breaths became ragged again, searching for the one person with whom she felt safe. 

“Han- Cellophane! _Cellophane_!” she wailed, grasping at the open air. She struggled against the black fabric straps securing her against the stretcher. “Please don’t leave me! I don’t want to be alone!” she sobbed pitifully against the thin sheet beneath her. The paramedics fluttered around her, trying to shush her, but she was inconsolable. Finally, one of them flattened out her arm and pushed a syringe into the vein. A coldness spread into her circulatory system, and Mina fell swiftly into a deep, dark, dreamless sleep… 

~~~~~~~~~~

When Mina awoke, she was greeted by a white-tiled ceiling and a thin, clean-smelling white sheet. Her entire body pulsed and ached with dull pain despite the IV drip hooked up to her arm delivering fluids and pain medication. She could feel that her body was swathed in thick gauze bandages underneath the thin, flimsy hospital gown. She fought the urge to sit up and move around because she knew it would only aggravate her injuries. She settled for turning her head to stare out of the window. It was nighttime; the inky black canvas dotted with stars shone clearly above the silhouetted skyline. Sighing, she turned to look back at the ceiling, feeling like her head was stuffed with cotton. Thinking was nearly impossible, but she tried anyway. When she took a moment to recall the sequence of events, tears flooded her eyes again. 

“ _Hanta_ ,” she mewled pathetically. Her palm tingled with the memory of his face and the desire to behold it again. The drops rolled down her cheeks as she cried silently. “Alone… I’m all _alone_ …” she moaned miserably. 

“It’s okay, Mina. I’m right here.” As she snapped her head to the side, a lightning strike of pain snapped down her spine, making her writhe and hiss in the bed. Hanta jumped up from the chair beside her hospital bed to grab her by the upper arms and still her. “Hey, hey! It’s okay. Relax.” His melodic voice just had such sway over her; her muscles obeyed immediately, falling still with no resistance. Mina stared owlishly up at Hanta as he smiled bashfully and swept his bangs out of his face. “Hey, Mina,” he purred gently. Mina tugged on his arm, prompting him to lean down over her. When he did, she immediately cupped his face again. Hanta smiled awkwardly and flushed pink. 

“Hanta…” Mina immediately felt all her anxieties wash away with his presence. Hanta didn’t seem to mind at all; he sat on the edge of the bed so he could comfortably sit over her. She then narrowed her eyes with a concerned look. “Am I… okay?” 

“You got pretty banged up,” he admitted with a terse pout. “You had to go into surgery to remove all the glass and iron out of your back… They said they had to put over a hundred stitches in all your wounds.” Mina squirmed uncomfortably, feeling the sutures scrape against the thin sheet and her hospital gown. Hanta then smiled reassuringly. “There’s good news, though! All the x-rays were good; they don’t think you have any fractures, but they’re gonna do more in a few days to make sure.” Mina breathed a small sigh of relief. A fractured spine would’ve been a daunting trial, indeed. “You’ve been out for a few days. Everybody stopped by, though!” he smiled and gestured to the side table. Mina looked over to see it laden with cards and small gifts. Hanta suddenly swelled with pride. “ _I_ picked out that bouquet.” 

It was a lovely arrangement of pink peonies, purple pansies, light blue hydrangeas, and a few white daisies to accent the cool colors. 

“It’s beautiful,” Mina acknowledged softly. She looked back to Hanta with a sweet, endeared smile. Hanta smiled back, his cheeks brightening with blush. “Thank you.” 

“Anything for my best girl,” he answered casually. They both blushed simultaneously at the connotation of his statement. Hanta looked down at his lap to fiddle with the hem of his jeans. “I, uh… I was really worried about you, y’know…” he said suddenly. Mina stared at him while he peered down at her through his lashes. “Seeing you like that… I almost couldn’t handle it…” Mina felt her face flushing hot, but she said nothing, because she couldn’t say anything. Hanta’s soft gaze was _electrifying_. He reached out to run his first knuckle over her cheekbone gently. His expression visibly softened. “I dunno what I’d do without my best girl…” 

“Hanta.” He snapped out of whatever trance he was in. He stared at her for a few seconds, blinking rapidly, before his face turned the color of a tomato.” 

“Ah! I, uh, shit, I, um- I’m sorry, I dunno what came over me, er-” 

“ _Hanta_.” She repeated with a blank stare. Hanta continued to gape at her, arms still up in the air from where he’d been flailing. 

“Wh-what?” 

“Stop talking and _kiss me_.” Hanta stared stupidly at her for a microsecond before he rushed to obey her command. He bent over double to press his lips to hers. Mina did her best despite her injury to push up into the kiss. There was only so much a girl could do after being blasted across a street like a rocket. Her hand traveled to the back of his head to weave into the soft black fibers of his hair. Hanta’s mouth eagerly moved against hers, sending waves of sweet pleasure through her body. Among many things, Hanta Sero was a great kisser. Who knew? 

When he pulled away, he smiled adoringly and stroked her face again. Mina hummed amusedly and played with the ends of his hair. He was still sitting on the bed, nearly doubled over as he leaned over her. “That doesn’t look comfortable. You’re the one who’s gonna fracture your spine,” she laughed. Hanta shrugged nonchalantly and continued to huddle over her. 

“S’no big deal… You’re my girl, after all.” Mina giggled and inched up to nuzzle the tip of her nose with his. 

“That’s right. I sure am.”


	32. Can't Go Back

Category: Angst, Tragedy

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Vigilante! Izuku

The silver moon hung low in the cloudy night sky, just a sliver of white curved down into a thin Cheshire cat smile. Its weak beams failed to penetrate the dark shadows draped over the city. Puddles of deep black coated the quiet buildings and sleeping homesteads like fleece blankets, providing plenty of cover for the unsavoury and haunted souls that wandered the backstreets on lonely nights such as these. It was in these orbs of blackness that Izuku lurked, stalking his prey with all the grace and menace of an attuned predator. 

His emerald eyes focused on the crouched form perched at the back door of the jewelry shop. Metal glinted in the sparse lowlight, reflecting off the thin wire the masked man was using to pick the pair of sturdy locks while Izuku hunched in the darkness, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The thief spared every few moments to glance around and critically inspect his surroundings; it was obviously not his first heist. Of course, it didn’t matter much to Izuku whether he was experienced or not; all criminals could kill, whether it was their first steal or their hundredth. 

The villain exclaimed a small triumphed “ _Yes_!” as the lock clicked and the back door creaked open. The thief pocketed his thievery tools as he stood up. When he placed the flat of his hand against the door to push it open, that was when Izuku zoomed out of the darkness, green lightning crackling across his body as the energy of his Quirk blasted through his being. 

The villain exclaimed in both in shock and anger as Izuku slammed his cheek against the rough brick wall of the exterior building. Izuku’s elbow jammed down against his cervical vertebrae, placing significant pressure on his trachea from the backside. The villain spluttered and wheezed as his shaking fingers fumbled for the knife in his back jean pocket. He then released an agonized scream as Izuku’s steel-plated boots slammed into it, crushing every bone in his hand against the jewelry store wall. His cries faded into pathetic whimpers and snivels, rising in pitch only when the green-haired young man pressed his bruised and bleeding hand further into the gritty brick. 

“It’s a bit late to be out shopping, don’tcha think?” Izuku purred in the villain’s ear. The steel edge of malice poisoned his almost childishly innocent tone of voice. The burglar whined loudly as Izuku pressed his full body weight into his back, imprinting the groove lines of the brick into his skin. “I’ve got three questions for you,” Izuku growled, his voice dropping an octave. Terrified, the thief nodded emphatically to show he was listening. “Have you ever committed a home invasion?” 

The villain hesitated to answer, worrying his bloodied bottom lip between his teeth. He then bit through the sensitive, plush skin as Izuku slammed the metal-reinforced toe of his boot into the back of his knee, forcing his left leg to crumple when his patella shattered between the force of Izuku’s kick smashing it against the hard brick. A series of loud howls and yowls began to spill from his lips, morphing into gurgles as the red blood streamed down his throat, and Izuku hurriedly smothered his mouth into the palm of his white leather glove. 

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Izuku cajoled in mock sweetness. “You just answer my questions honestly, and we’ll come to an agreement, yeah? Now, let’s try this again,” he tutted as the burglar stared up at him through wide, watery eyes. “ _Have you ever committed a home invasion?_ ” When Izuku removed his hand from his mouth, the villain spat out clots of thick red blood. 

“Yes! Yes! I have,” he admitted with a low, mournful groan. Izuku clicked his tongue against his front teeth, making the villain flinch. 

“All right. Next question- have you ever killed anyone?” 

“Nah, nah, man! I ain’t like that, I ain’t like that!” The thief began to blabber desperately. “Look, I stole some TVs and some stereos, and pilfered some jewelry every now ‘n then, but I ain’t never killed nobody!” It was evident that his promises fell on deaf, disbelieving ears, so he switched tactics. “Look man, I ain’t a saint, I know that. I got kids, man! I gotta provide, and I know it ain’t right, but I love my kids, man! I ain’t never killed nobody, man, I don’t my kids’ daddy to be a murderer- a thief, but not a killer, man!” 

Through lidded eyes, Izuku studied the man’s own tearful ones. His irises swam with clear desperation and fright, but so far, the green-haired boy could detect no lie. Izuku clicked his tongue again, but this time in dissatisfaction that it seemed he had yet again failed to find the man he’d been hunting for six months. The man mistook it as an inadequate answer to his question, for he began to sob loudly and plead more profusely. 

“Shut up!” Izuku barked, the villain’s warbling moans irritating him. The villain immediately clamped his mouth shut, bottom lip wobbling. “I have one more question for you. December 23rd, last year, the Red Pine Apartment complex- know anything about it?” Confusion glazed the villain’s eyes as he struggled to search his memory for any useful information for Izuku. Izuku raised an eyebrow when lucidity suddenly flooded his dark irises, and the vigilante wondered if perhaps he’d finally stumbled on a helpful lead. 

“O-oh, man, you talkin’ about that lady that got murdered in the home invasion, right? By that serial burglar? Look, man, that was real tragic, she seemed like a real nice lady; I-I-I read about it in the paper, y’see,” he clarified quickly as Izuku began to take an express interest in his ramblings. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know nothin’ about it, I swear on my kids’ lives-” 

“Don’t do that,” Izuku scolded harshly. The burglar gulped and nodded in understanding before continuing, his voice soft with what seemed to be genuine sympathy. 

“Look, guy, I get it. That lady was clearly someone to ya. I wish I knew anything that would help you find who did that to her, honest, man. But I’m just a petty thief scrappin’ a livin’ the best I know how. I don’t know nothin’ about no murder. Honest, man.” With a heavy sigh, Izuku’s crushing grip on the man relaxed ever-so-slightly, enough for the thief to breath properly and release a shaky sigh. Izuku was loathed to admit it, but he really did just seem to be a petty thief, not the cold-blooded murderer that he was searching for. Izuku sucked his bottom lip between his lip as he began to mumble nonsensically to himself about his next course of action in his search for his killer. After a few minutes of listening to his whispered rambling, the thief piped up hopefully, “S-so can I go, man?” 

“Absolutely not. You’re still a criminal,” Izuku huffed and promptly slammed the man’s forehead against the wall. The air sang with a sickening crack as blood burst against the brick and hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the front of the man’s skull. The villain immediately fell limp, bending back against Izuku, who just stepped aside and allowed him to slam onto his back against the alley floor. Izuku pulled his newest prepaid cell phone, preparing to dial 9-1-1 to call for the police to pick up the unconscious man. Just as his thumb hovered over the “9” button, his instincts began buzzing with a fervor as they sensed an incoming wave of fury, bloodlust, and betrayal. 

Izuku ignited his Quirk and zoomed down to the end of the alley without even turning to see who was approaching, because he _knew_. In the space his emerald-haired head had just occupied, explosions bloomed as a hulky, yowling figure leapt down from the nearby rooftop, hands sparking with multiple blasts. Izuku rolled to land and flipped around, crouching down low as he glared daggers at the muscled ash-blond young man hunching over the burglar currently puddling blood against the dirty cobblestone. With the angle of the sparse moonlight, Izuku could see the white puffs of steamy breath as the boy exhaled a savage growl. 

“ _Deku_.” 

The clouds parted, spilling the gleaming white light down to earth. The beams coalesced against the newcomer’s form. They glinted off the vermillion eyes burning within the jagged black mask framing his angular face, highlighted the bright orange bands of his hero suit, and reflected off the smooth metal framing the gigantic gauntlets enclosing his clenched fists. Izuku slowly stood up, flexing his fingers as bright green lightning skittered over his gloves.

“Kacchan,” Izuku replied coolly, deigning to shoot a disdainful sneer at his former friend and classmate. Katsuki snarled and lunged forward threateningly, clearly angered by the fact that Izuku still referred to him by the childhood nickname. Katsuki’s muscles tensed from head-to-toe as he refrained from blasting across the alleyway to pummel Izuku with everything he had. Izuku tilted his head to the side with a click of his tongue. “Where’s the entourage? It’s unusual to see you without Eijirou or Mina,” he questioned casually, tone laced with scathing scorn. 

“Shut up! Stop with the small talk! I left those dumbasses behind because they’ll just get in the way!” Katsuki yelled, hand cutting through the humid night air as his hand flung to the side in a furious gesture. His other fist clenched so tightly that it trembled. “Six months… We’ve been doing this for _six months_ ,” he whispered, voice cracking with emotions as his eyes flooded with misery and desperation. Izuku’s eyes widened slightly as a completely shattered expression overtook Katsuki’s usually hard, unforgiving features. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to do this. Come back with me, Deku, All Might can _protect_ you-” 

“I don’t need anyone’s protection!” Izuku shouted. As he slammed his metal-plated boot into the ground, fissures spiderwebbed underneath him, making his body shift as the ground under his feet heaved and distorted. Katsuki scowled viciously at Izuku’s open display of hostility, that scowl so deep that the pink of his gums shone against the whites of his teeth. Izuku’s body quaked as he balled up his fists tight, red streams coursing over his scarred skin as the green sparks jumped all over his body. “I can’t go back. I can’t stop until I _know-_ ” 

“You’re mom’s _dead_ , okay?!” As Katsuki’s voice cracked like a whip in the otherwise quiet night air, a cold flush seeped into Izuku’s being, freezing him down to his bones. Katsuki stared imploringly at him, stepping over the still-bleeding petty thief to hold out both his arms placatingly. Though Izuku’s instincts yowled at him to surge forward and clock him in the jaw, he reigned himself in, but only just. “ _She’s dead_ ,” Katsuki whispered in a ghost of a breath.

Izuku wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the fading moonlight or not, but he swore he saw sympathetic tears glinting in the corners of Katsuki’s eyes. “I know you wanna know who did that to her. I know you’re angry. God, Deku, I understand anger better than _anyone_!” he said, splaying his hand out over his heart as his voice rose with mounting emotion. “But _fuck_ , dude, do you think she’d _want_ this? For you to turn against everything you’ve ever known, everything you’ve ever _wanted_ , and just go on a vengeance spree? Don’t be fucking hypocrite, dude! You remember what happened to Four-Eyes!” 

The memory flooded Izuku’s mouth with bitter acid. _He’s right. You had to stop Iida that time. Now here’s Kacchan, trying to keep you from making the same mistakes-_ Izuku quickly squashed the notion, hardening his heart once more before he slipped away from his path. _I can’t stop until I know. I can’t stop until the person that did that-_ His breath hitched in his throat with the coming of horrid visions, flashes of arcs of blood splashed over the walls and floors, of overturned furniture and broken glass, of ingredients for a home-cooked meal still laid out on the kitchen counter, of his mother’s body lying prone staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes-

“Shut up! _Shut up_ , Kacchan!” Izuku screamed and grabbed the side of his head to wrench his eyes shut. “You don’t know! You don’t know what it’s like! You didn’t _see_ what that monster did to her!” His eyes shot open, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he glared thunderously at the recently graduated hero. A sob choked him, making him struggle to release his words. “ _I should’ve been there_. If I’d only gotten there ten minutes sooner, she’d still be here and that bastard would be rotting in a prison cell where he belongs!” The sparks increased in intensity as he flexed his arms hard, leather groaning as they were strained under his increasingly tight grip. “I can’t stop now, Kacchan. Not now.” 

“Fucking _listen_ to yourself!” Katsuki pressed, taking another step forward. Izuku reacted this time by jerking forward, priming himself should the blond dare to push closer. Katsuki seemed oblivious to the looming threat, red eyes as wide as blood moons as he tried desperately to beseech the vigilante. “It’s not your fault, Izuku.” Izuku relaxed just the slightest as his friend addressed him by name, his _real name_. Katsuki’s voice was soft, pleading, honeyed with promise and brotherhood. “I know what it’s like to blame yourself for somethin’ bad. You _know_ that I know. Don’t do this. Don’t go down this road.” Katsuki removed one of his gauntlets; it clanged to the ground, rolling a foot or so away to bump against the side of the building walling the alley. Katsuki’s expression was nothing sort of begging as he extended his hand to Izuku. “Please. Izuku. _Come home_.” 

Izuku was tempted. So, _so_ tempted. His fingers twitched as the inane desire gripped him, and his hand even rose a few centimeters. _Home. Home. Home._ The word pulsed in his mind, a repetitive drum hammering away at the wall of resolve he’s built up for months. Chips and cracks appeared in the fortification, dust raining down as Katsuki’s plea assaulted his will. **_Home_** _._

_“Welcome home, Izuku! I missed you so much. Tell me all about school- oh, but don’t make me cry, okay?”_

Izuku sucked in a strangled breath as the voice of the person he’d never see again rang in his head. Hissing, he grabbed his hand and held it, physically restraining himself to squash the last dregs of the desire tainting his nerves. His emerald eyes hardened into shining gems rough and unpolished with malice. 

“Sorry, Kacchan. I told you already. _I can’t go back now._ ” Without warning, Izuku sprang at him, giving Katsuki no time to react as he aimed a savage kick to the side of his body. Katsuki’s reflexes were sharper than ever, so he managed to wedge his remaining gauntlet between himself and Izuku’s oncoming metal-coated boot. Boosted by the insane strength of Izuku’s Quirk, the blow crippled the metal of the gauntlet, making it crumple like aluminum wrap under the fierce assault of the strike. The force propagated across the surface to ripple into Katsuki’s body, and the boy yelped as he was abruptly flung sideways, right into the brick wall. The hard surface exploded upon his impact, clouding white, chalky dust into the air. Katsuki’s limp body slumped over the edge of the giant hole he’d created, twitched beneath a few cracked bricks. He was barely conscious, groaning Izuku’s name. Izuku straddled his legs where they stuck out into the alley, eyes lidded. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it- how easily he’d subdued _Katsuki Bakugo_ , his greatest rival and fiercest competitor. It was so unlike Katsuki to be just immediately _flattened_ , especially by one blow. But here he was, moaning as he cradled his broken ribs with blood streaming from the large gash in the side of his head. His red eyes peeked through the slits of his eyes, hazily focusing on the green-haired vigilante as he stepped away from the scene. 

“Get back here… Motherfucker…” Katsuki’s voice warbled with exhaustion from the concussion he was probably sporting. The bricks shifted and clattered off his form as he half-climbed, half-stumbled out of the hole. Izuku glanced over his shoulder from the entrance of the alley to see Katsuki barely standing, knees wobbling as he staggered after him. Scratches littered his skin and blood spattered his black-and-orange costume. “Get back here, Deku! I ain’t done yet!” he demanded, louder. In the next second, his legs gave out and he slammed face-first into the cobblestone. Izuku watched him slowly wiggle with a mixture of pity and satisfaction. “ _Fuck_ ,” Katsuki wheezed, clearly struggling not to cry. “I just… I just want… I wanted things to be like they used to,” he sniffed pathetically. The tears blotted his face because he hadn’t the strength to lift a hand to wipe his face. 

Izuku stared down at him mournfully. 

“They can’t, Kacchan. They just can’t.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku left Katsuki and the petty thief in the alleyway. With all the noise, someone would’ve heard and called the authorities. Izuku activated his Quirk to place some distance between himself and the crime scene. His mind was a blank slate, thoughtless as he erased all urges to turn around and hug Katsuki while bawling his eyes out. 

After a few minutes of leaping across the rooftops, Izuku crouched down onto the flat roof of a department store. He smiled wanly as he looked up at the night sky, where a few stars were stubbornly blinking behind the thick sheet of gray clouds. 

“Sorry, Mom. You’re probably crying right now, huh? Sorry… But I can’t go back- _not until someone pays_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I have a very important announcement to make. Due to both a high volume of requests and me starting medical school, I am afraid that I am shutting requests down. I will give everyone a day or so to make any requests they may have. It is very realistic that I may have them shut down for the entire school year, so I encourage you all to hop on the waiting list, because I truly don't know when they'll open up again. From this point forward, the status of whether you can request or not will be listed in the foreword. Thank you all for continuing to support the collection and send in requests! It's been truly fun doing them and I will continue to address compiled requests until there are no more. Again, I just ask your patience as I move through them while I'm in a very stressful and busy state in life. 
> 
> I also encourage you all to follow me on Tumblr @vannahfanfics, where I'll host events and such! It's really fun and I love interacting with people who read my humble little stories :3 Ciao for now!


	33. One Good Turn Deserves Another

Category: Hurt and Comfort

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Eri

Additional Tags: Vigilante!Class 1-A

_Trigger warning for themes of child abuse!_

Izuku’s lips were curled into a cold, smug smile as his bright eyes beheld the lofty penthouse suite displayed by the floor-to-ceiling glass panes framing the luxurious condominiums nestled between the beach and the sprawled city complex. Izuku perched on the balcony railing of the adjacent condominiums’ penthouse complex that he was currently sharing with twenty other young vigilantes looking to score a quick buck in the chaotic, unforgiving, cold-hearted world they lived in. They’d all seen terrible, horrible things that prompted them to turn their backs on society’s definition of “hero” and carve their paths. To this day, Izuku marveled at the miracle of their coming together to form one of Japan’s most notorious heist organizations. 

“Has she left yet?” Katsuki grunted as he strode out of the open set of glass doors. His heavy boots thunked against the smooth stone bottom of the balcony. Izuku’s emerald eyes remained fixed on the spread of clear glass several yards away, particularly on the thirty-something-year-old woman running a blow dryer through her voluminous brown hair. Izuku was mildly impressed with her haircare routine; even from the considerable distance, he could see the ripples of her hair gloss with the fluorescents’ unflattering light. Her bathroom was as large as the standard bedroom, but that didn’t mean the condos invested in slightly better lightbulbs. 

“Not yet,” Izuku responded without looking at his number-one partner-in-crime. “We still have fifteen minutes until her suitor is supposed to pick her up.” Katsuki only grunted in response, watching with disdain as the older woman smoothed nonexistent creased from the sapphire blue dress that hugged her figure in every scandalous way possible. Izuku could almost hear her six-inch-heels clacking as she exited the bathroom to cross through the walls. She disappeared into the bowels of the suite to head towards the penthouse door. 

“What’s this broad do again that makes her richer than God?” 

“She’s the assistant CEO of a software development company specializing in programming high-tech support items.” Indeed, the infamous burglars had targeted her after multiple magazine spotlights and television specials revealed her lavish life’s intimate details, down to a complete tour of her pompous penthouse home. The exposés had been mainly focused on her widowed status, chronicling her tumultuous rise to fame after her husband’s sudden death after only a few years of blissful marriage. Izuku remembered the bitter tears streaming from her eyes as she reminisced about her loving husband. The waterworks had cemented in his mind that she was the perfect victim for their newest scheme. 

Katsuki and Izuku both straightened slightly as the receivers in their ears buzzed with static. 

“Hey, hey!” Izuku could hear Denki’s broad grin in the fuzzy audio of the transceiver. “The John’s in the building and heading up to the penthouse.” Izuku pressed the respond button to answer, still crouching on the railing by balancing on his metal-plated boots. Denki always served as their mole, because his easygoing and sunny personality just lured people into a false sense of security so easily.

“Is it time?” Hanta called as he poked his head out of the open glass doors. 

“Almost.” Hanta stuck out a thumbs-up before vanishing into the room, shouting for Ochako and Mina to go out onto the balcony for Phase II of the rob-the-rich-lady plan. Ochako trotted out onto the lengthy stone structure, chewing on a licorice candy as she leaned against the railing beside Izuku. 

“If only I’d lived like that, life could’ve been so much different,” the brunette mourned sourly as she tore off a large chunk of the red candy and crushed it between her teeth with excessive force. Izuku laughed dryly with a nod of agreement. 

“I would feel bad because she’s a single mother, but wait until the world sees the reports of employee abuse we mailed into the news networks,” he laughed gleefully. Sure, they stole and occasionally beat people to a bloody pulp, but only people who deserved it. Many of the common folk revered them as a troupe of Robin Hoods, stealing from the obnoxiously wealthy and abusive to aid the poor and struggling. At least, that’s what many of them told themselves to justify their questionable deeds. Try as they like to harden their hearts to their bitter realities, sometimes their human sides tried to nose back into their lives. 

“She’s leaving,” came Denki’s quick report in their transponders. Izuku could hear girlish giggling and the baritone droning of a man in the background of the audio. Denki, disguised in a janitor’s outfit, whistled as stood with his mop and side-eyed them. “Heading up. Be there or be square.” 

“All right. Denki’s moving in to disable the motion sensors,” Izuku reported. Mina had joined them on the balcony, and she enthusiastically punched the air with her fists. 

“All right! Let’s bleed this bitch for everything she has!” the pink girl crowed. Izuku languidly stood up on the metal railing, balancing his center to stand at his full height with only the thin rail cementing him to the building. Ochako skipped over to touch Mina with her pink finger pads, and the girl immediately floated up a few inches from the balcony, giggling as she did so. 

“I can never get used to how weird this feels!” Mina trilled, laughing joyfully as Hanta pushed the back of her head to make her body somersault in the air slowly. As she righted herself, Izuku grabbed her gently by the elbow to drift her to the balcony rail. “All right! The Mina Rocket is ready to go!” she declared. Izuku grinned widely, then flung Mina to send her sailing across the gap between the buildings. The few patrons lingering by the pool failed to notice the pink vigilante floating in the sky in the dark fringe of the lofty condos. Katsuki snorted as Mina bumped into the window with a gentle smack. She hurriedly grasped onto the building’s thin stone rim before she bounced off. She hovered beside the building, staring at the red blip of light within the condo’s dark recesses that indicated the security system was still armed. 

“How are you doing, Denki?” 

“Me ‘n Yaomomo are almost in position.” Momo had also been deployed to the condominium, posing as a member of the cleaning staff. By now, the security officer should be passed out from a sleeping drought so their bonafide genius could replace the camera feeds with loops and replaced footage to eliminate the evidence of their involvement before it even existed. The video would show that Denki and Momo had gotten off on entirely different floors, when in fact, they would proceed to the penthouse to assist in the heist. No one would ever be the wiser that two moles had been planted in the staff. 

There was a reason they’d evaded Interpol, the Japanese Bureau of Investigation, and the Hero Commission for so long, after all. The young group of vigilantes dotted all their I’s, crossed all their T’s, and checked them twice. 

“The cameras are set,” Momo reported, whispering not to wake the slumbering guard. “The footage is good for about an hour. Let’s make the most of it.” 

“Almost done,” Denki hummed in the same channel. A faint crackling of electricity sounded as he essentially fried the security system controls. Faintly, Izuku could see the red light blip green. 

As soon as Momo and Denki reported in, Mina melted the glass with her acid, reducing it to a goop steaming on the wooden floorboards. Mina worked quickly and efficiently to carve a large hole into the window, then daintily stepped into the living room to tut at the blackened, smoking area rug. As soon as she safely entered the penthouse, Ochako released her Quirk, allowing Mina the land on the plush carpet and appraise the lofty home. 

“All right, guys, let’s move in.” Izuku used his Quirk to propel himself across the divide, bending the railing as he blasted off it. He’d bend it back later. He landed deftly in the center of the living room, clicking his tongue at the sheer obnoxiousness of the interior decor. It probably cost more than all of her employees combined made in a year. Disgusted, Izuku made a point to bend the metal floor lamp in half, exposing the wire to make sparks jump from the now-frayed metal pieces. While the others quietly used their Quirks to jump into the penthouse and Denki picked the lock so he and Momo could stroll in, Izuku set to ransacking the place to discover where the software mogul hid her stacks of cash. The others began pilfering everything valuable in sight; Tooru and Asui sprinted to the master bedroom, keen on scoring the jewelry the woman had been sure to show off in her many interviews. 

Izuku ignored the triumphant hoots and hollers as he meandered down a hallway. Just to be thorough, he opened the side closet, disinterestedly pulling out the Egyptian sheets of every color and numerous comforters to fling them into a pile on the floor. Nothing hid behind the cottony masses, and he almost abandoned the effort until he spied a suspiciously square seam in the wood peeking out. 

“Hello,” he grinned and crouched down to pry the false floor up with his fingers. Izuku had been expecting a hidden stash of cash or coins, perhaps a safe containing embezzlement or fraud documents. 

He was _not_ expecting a pair of bright red eyes and a pale round face to be peeking up at him. 

Izuku froze. He blinked, and the pale face shrouded by the darkness blinked back. He continued to hold up the small nook entrance, oblivious to Katsuki stomping down the hall toward him. 

“Oi, what the fuck are you- _what the fuck_?” The blond hissed in a breath, making the small form within the crawlspace cringe in fright. With a flip of his index finger, Izuku bid Katsuki to turn on the hallway light. As he complied, the white light cascaded over Izuku’s hunched form to crash into the small space, illuminating a very tiny, disheveled little girl. Her red, puffy eyes slowly blinked as she regarded Izuku with a mixture of curiosity and fear. 

“Are you here to steal me?” 

Izuku almost lost it. _Literally_. He become so infuriated that his Quirk jumped out, sending red streaks and green lighting blazing across his skin. Clenching his teeth hard and breathing steadily through his nose, he managed to force his power back into control and give the little girl a strained smile. It was just so hard not to go ballistic and tear the entire penthouse upside down, because this was the most pathetic little girl Izuku had ever seen. Her white-gray hair framed her round face and her red eyes glittered like blood moons in the light. A little horn protruded from her forehead. Why the hell was this child locked in a crawlspace in a goddamn hallway closet while the penthouse owner gallivanted off on a booty call? 

“Yeah,” Izuku smiled pleasantly. “Yeah,” he repeated, convincing himself to commit to the radical change in plans. “That’s right.” His heart crushed in on itself as her eyes widened and she beamed brightly. She flung herself forward with a delighted squeal to wrap her thin arms around Izuku’s neck, burning her face into his sternum. The girl immediately began bawling loudly, spreading snot and tears all over the spandex of his suit. 

“Ungh… I… I’m so happy… I-I’ve been waiting so long for someone to know I was here… That I _existed_ …” Izuku didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had no earthly idea she was in the penthouse, let alone related to the woman. “Mommy… Mommy locks me in here because she doesn’t want people to know. She hates me; she tells me so. She says I need to suffer, so I’m locked away to be forgotten. Just like everyone forgot Daddy, she says,” she blubbered between wails and cries. Izuku’s hands remained limply at his sides, too stunned with the cascade of events to properly comfort the girl. Her crying had attracted the attention of his cohorts, and they crammed into the small hallway to observe the strange happenings. She began to sob harder. 

“I didn’t mean it… I didn’t _mean_ to make Daddy go away. It was an accident. An _accident_.” She palmed her small horn, sniveling, and it took Izuku a few seconds to puzzle out that the little girl’s Quirk had likely manifested and killed her father. It wasn’t common, but certainly not unheard of. Children with powerful, uncontrollable Quirks posed real and present dangers. The girl sniffled as she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm. “Mommy says it’s my fault. She says that my punishment is to be locked away and feel what it’s like to be forgotten. She tells me that one day she’ll forget me too, and I’m going to die, all alone.” 

Katsuki began cursing profusely under his breath, sparks popping from his palms as his fury mounted. 

“This is fucking _ridiculous_ ; are we gonna fucking _stand_ for this? This bitch has her _daughter_ locked in a fucking hole in the wall and is out there schmoozing some fuckin’ asshole-! I can’t; I fuckin’ _can’t_ , I need- _Ooooooh…_!” As he grew more and more enraged, he stomped off into a side bedroom and began flinging furniture around with his herculean strength. Izuku had regained some semblance of his wits, so he hugged the small girl tightly to his person and petted her long silvery hair. Suddenly, she blinked at him. 

“Wait… You aren’t here to kill me, are you? Did my mom… Did she finally…?” As her red eyes flooded with fresh tears, Izuku hurriedly shushed her and pressed his cheek against the side of her head. 

“No, no, that’s not why we’re here at all.” 

“That’s right! We’re thieves!” Tooru beamed theatrically as she jumped over, waving her gloves around ecstatically. The little girl’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head upon witnessing an invisible woman for the first time. “We’re gonna steal you away to happier life!” The girl’s eyebrows shot up, and she craned her head to look at Izuku. 

“That’s right!” he confirmed with a cheesy grin. “Stealing is what burglars do best, right?” The girl squealed as he hoisted her up with his hands under her armpits. Her little legs kicked happily at the sudden rush of air around her. With a smile, Izuku plopped her against him, one beefy arm hooked under her comparably tiny frame. Her little hands rested on his broad shoulder, and her bright smile illuminated the condominium better than the sun ever could. When a few more loud crashes, thumps, and curses drifted down the hall, she looked worriedly towards the room Katsuki had stamped into. 

“Is he okay?” 

“Yeah, he’s just sorting out his feelings,” Denki laughed as he sidled up. “Hiya! What’s your name, squirt?” he asked as he playfully shook her hand. 

“Eri,” she giggled. 

“Eri! What a cute name,” Kyoka appraised with a nod. The others greeted her jovially as Izuku carried her into the living room. Her eyes widened when she beheld the overturned and broken furniture. 

“What are you all looking for besides me?” 

“What kind of burglars would we be if we didn’t take your mom’s money?” Shoto quipped monotonously as he resumed emptying drawers. Izuku flushed with embarrassment at the boy’s bluntness, and Eri screwed her face up into a frown. 

“Mommy isn’t a nice person. She takes money from the company and robs the workers; I hear her say so on the phone. She laughs about it.” Eri glanced concernedly up at Izuku. “What are you going to do with the money?” 

“Uh! Oh, um, we’re not gonna do anything bad,” he reassured as he strolled over to the gaping hole in the window. “We’re honest burglars. We steal from bad people and share it with good people.” It was true. They’d made anonymous donations to charities and underfunded schools and local businesses, built a children’s park overnight for a low-income neighborhood, and committed countless other good-Samaritan deeds. Of course, some of that they pocketed for personal interests and paying off essential figures, but hey, it was an investment for more heists and more good deeds, in the long run. At his explanation, Eri hummed satisfactorily and hugged his neck, her cheek squishing against his. 

“I see. That’s nice!” She then inhaled slightly as the wind whistled through the window, ruffling her hair and nightgown. Izuku smiled sympathetically as she gulped, peeking down at the ground so very far below. “Are we… Going to jump?” 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s how I came, you know. We can make it! I’m going to hold on real tight to you,” he reassured her jovially. Eri nodded slowly, rotating her head to peek back at his friends, who had resumed rummaging around the apartment. Katsuki had satiated his ire and stalked back into the main room to oversee the operation. “Don’t worry about them. They’re just finishing the job. They’ll probably stay a little while, because… Well, as we like to say, _one good turn deserves another_.” 

The tone in the room shifted immediately. It grew dead silent as Izuku’s unspoken order dropped the temperature of the room several degrees. His grin and emerald eyes were eerily bright as he eyed them over Eri’s head. “Right, guys?” 

“Right,” Tenya whistled as he picked up the sheets in the hall and began shredding them into thin strips of cloth. Silence descended as the vigilantes began searching the penthouse once more, but their minds were no longer on cash and evidence, but something else entirely. Eri blinked repeatedly as she struggled to grasp the shift in the tension and gave Izuku an inquisitive stare. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Izuku smiled and patted the top of her head. “When tomorrow morning comes, _everyone_ will know you exist.” Eri’s blood moon eyes widened as a big grin slowly spread across her round face. 

“Really? You mean it?” 

“Every word,” he promised. “You gotta swear, though, to keep a secret.” Eri nodded vigorously. “You can’t tell _anyone_ about who rescued you. It’ll be a secret between just us, okay? Pinky-swear.” Izuku held up his scarred pinky, and Eri readily looped her tiny one with his, linking them in an eternal promise. “Good. Remember, one good turn deserves another. We saved you, so you help us keep our identities safe so we can keep helping other people.” With that, Izuku hugged her tight and activated his Quirk to once more spring between the two buildings. She inhaled wondrously as the wind rushed through her hair, and looked up to see the starry night sky after so long deprived of their soft, simple light. 

~~~~~~~~~~

As Izuku had promised, Eri’s story was blown wide open alongside the software mogul’s scandalous finances and business practices. Izuku and the others had left Eri asleep in the penthouse suite with all their documents and scathing evidence of Eri’s abuse and the money the woman had stolen from her business partner. They dropped an anonymous call to the police to inform them of the girl’s location, and then retreated to a safe distance within the city to watch the media massacre unfold. 

The woman was discovered first. She was brought out by police not visibly harm but clearly scared within an inch of her life. Being suspended from a penthouse with only a decorative chair and some Egyptian cotton sheets to anchor you to safety would do that to a person. Next, when Izuku and the others dropped the call, the flocks of the press began to babble theories as the police swarmed into the adjacent penthouse. They’d also given anonymous information to the news media, who immediately jumped on the tragic tale of the little girl. Eri’s eyes were huge as the cop carried her carefully out of the condo, amazed by all the noise and activity developing around her. Izuku could just tell by the teary smile on her face that she was thinking, _They know I’m here. They’re happy I’m safe._

When one of the reporters shoved a microphone into her face and demanded to know who her rescuers and mother’s assailants were, Eri just smiled sheepishly. 

“It’s a secret. I can’t tell. You know, _one good turn deserves another_.” 

Izuku grinned to himself, biting down on his bottom lip in satisfaction. 

Sure, they weren’t saints. They’d stolen, and assaulted, and publicly slandered plenty. However, seeing that little girl’s smile broadcast on the big screen for the world to see, ready to leave an arduous life behind her and step out into the light, reminded Izuku of why he’d turned to such an existence in the first place. 

Real heroes made real change through whatever means necessary. Because, as he said… One good turn deserves another, and one bad deed brings down righteous fury.


	34. Lucky

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Himiko Toga, Dabi

_Warning! The beginning of this story depicts a bloody nightmare, and so readers should take caution before reading!_

The blood burned Himiko’s skin as it drenched her face, her hands, her throat. Its iron tang spread over her tongue with every gasping pant her lungs heaved, making her tongue loll out between long, agonized screams. Himiko _adored_ blood; she’d always had that morbid fascination, that insane need to consume to thick, ruby-red, life-giving liquid. But this- this was _different._ Himiko never thought it would be the case, but it was _too much blood_. The dense fluid gushed into her mouth and down her throat as it cascaded over her like a waterfall; where was it coming from? It seemed to rain from the heavens in bucketloads, soaking Himiko from head-to-toe. As it filled her lungs instead of air, Himiko’s chest heaved as it grew heavier and heavier, like an iron weight was slowly digging into her sternum. 

Himiko was _drowning_. 

“Noooo… Agh… Ungh… Pl-eee-ase…” Grotesque chokes, gurgles, and sobs bubbled around the blood coursing down her trachea. Himiko clutched at her throat as she lurched forward, planting her hand against the cobblestoned alley floor submerged beneath the lake of blood splashing around her. The angle allowed her to regurgitate the hot, suffocating fluid, but now the stream was crashing down onto her shoulders and back. Himiko’s elbow began to wobble violently back and forth as her slim arm struggled to hold the weight of her drenched body and clothes combined with the cascade’s pressure. Tears leaked out of her eyes to carve through the splashes of red on her cheeks. 

“Why? Why, why, _why_ , **_why_**?” she demanded, voice cracking in the middle of the scream as terror and frustration shattered her mind. A long, agonized groan followed. Her entire body pulsed with pain, and she swore she could hear her cells screaming. Maybe it was herself screaming. Perhaps she was actually hearing the shrill laments of those she’d slain in her hemophilic mania. Himiko didn’t know. 

Himiko’s eyelids drooped as exhaustion crept through her, cell by cell. Finally, her arm caved, and she flopped lifelessly into the blood; the stream continued to crash down into her back to flow in rivers through the folds of her soaking wet clothes. It pooled over her, coating every inch of her person in bright red. The blood flooded into her mouth again. This time, Himiko simply embraced it- embraced her rapidly approaching _death_. 

_Is this my punishment?_

Himiko awoke with a shrill scream. Her fingers clutched the pink-striped comforter in a white-knuckled grip, and the sheets tangled around her body were damp with perspiration. Himiko’s gaze snapped wildly around the room, not settling on anything long enough to even determine what it was, as her body slowly came down from the horrifying high. The bed creaked and groaned with the violent tremors that gripped her body. Second by painstaking second, Himiko gradually exited the terrifying nightmare and eased back into reality. Her tense muscles slowly relaxed until she slumped forward, chin banging against her chest. 

“Phew…” Her muscles pulsed with a dull ache from clenching so hard during her terrifying dream. Sniffling her still tear-heavy eyes, Himiko rubbed at them with the heels of her palms, spreading the salty liquid in her blonde lashes and around her eyelids. Then, she tipped her head back with a deep sigh, looking at the water-stained and cracked ceiling of their ramshackle hideout. After pouting at the popcorn ceiling for a moment, she flung the comforter off herself, her blank slate of a fear-jellied mind compelled only by an instinct for hydration. 

The door to her bedroom creaked in protest as she pried it open, spilling the moonlight from her small window into the dark hall. The dull droning of low-volume video echoed through the thin hall, originating from Dabi’s room in the back corner of the ruined apartments. Dabi usually fell asleep with the television on, if he fell asleep at all. Many a time, she’d crept back there out of curiosity to see him lounging on the sofa, swigging a beer and watching the late-night programming with disinterested lidded electric blue eyes. This time she headed in the opposite direction towards the bar to procure herself a glass of water. 

The bar echoed with light clinking as Himiko removed a whiskey glass from the cabinet. The soles of her feet pitter-pattered against the wood, causing it to groan every so often as she displaced the settling wood. She turned the faucet on at half-strength to not awaken the group of villains with the gushing stream. Her efforts went unfounded, because as soon as the water spilled forth, Himiko released a strangled gasp and dropped the glass down in the sink. In Himiko’s imagination, thick red blood spurted from the dirty chrome faucet, drenching her hand in hot, sticky mess. She crouched down immediately, quaking with wide eyes, and clenched the countertop in a tight grip to ground herself. 

“It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream,” Himiko repeated feverishly. Slowly, she straightened up to peek just over the top of the counter into the sink; now, crystal-clear water was trickling from the faucet, splashing down on the marbled surface of the whiskey glass. Sighing deeply, Himiko returned to a standing position and retrieved the glass. Though the sides were now slick with water, she still filled it with the liquid and downed it quickly. It didn’t comfort her like she thought it would have. Perhaps she should’ve opted for whiskey. 

“A little early to be day drinking,” a deep voice purred from the hall’s entryway. Himiko glanced over to see Dabi leaning against the wall with arms crossed as he regarded her with critical blue eyes. Himiko clicked her tongue and drank another glass of water, then shut off the faucet. She set the glass in the sink to attend to later, gently so as not to make any more unnecessary noise, before turning to Dabi. Her weary must’ve been carved into her face, because his mouth twitched up into a sympathetic smirk and he breathed, “So you get ‘em too, huh?” 

“Everybody does,” she shrugged indifferently. Well, she didn’t know if everyone got nightmares where they were drowning in blood, but she refrained from commenting on that. Dabi hummed thoughtfully and continued to stare levelly at her nightgown-clad form. Nervous under his intense stare, she wrung the hem of her sleep-dress and regarded him shiftily. “Did you come in here to tease me, Dabi? Because I _will_ stab you,” she threatened. Dabi snorted and rolled his head, stretching the tendon in his neck into a taut line as he looked belittingly at her. 

“Do you really think I’m that much of an ass? ‘S’not a teasing matter,” he grumped. Himiko’s eyes widened a little. With a small “tch,” he rubbed the stretched plane of his neck and studied the dusty floor. “Contrary to what you may believe, I came to check on you.” Himiko’s mouth parted in a small, shocked gasp as she stared incredulously at Dabi. His scarred face distorted into an uncomfortable scowl, but his blue eyes flickered to her, burning with acute concern. Himiko found herself melting at the sentiment, a dreamy smile spreading wide over her face. 

“Really~? How sweet of you, Dabi! I didn’t know you had it in you~!” she trilled while skipping across the kitchen to stand in front of him. He immediately stiffened and reared back a little, shocked by her sudden invasion of his personal space. Himiko leaned in, eyes glittering as she relished the fact that she might get some comfort and affection for once, even if it was from someone as emotionally constipated as Dabi. “ _Hug me_!” she asked, opening her arms wide and scrunching up her face in a broad smile. 

Himiko was only teasing. She knew Dabi would only offer a few words and then retreat to his room for the night. Honestly, Himiko felt a lot better just knowing he cared enough to check on her, so she’d just taken the opportunity to joke around. That’s all it was. 

That’s why it completely floored her when he wrapped an arm around her head and jammed her nose into her stubborn in a firm, purposeful embrace. Himiko’s eyes blew wide as a dull pain bloomed across the bridge of her nose at the brunt action, but she honestly wasn’t even aware of it, because her mind was too bust reeling in shock. For a few seconds, her arms remained splayed out on either side, fingers twitching as her cognition struggled to process the sudden turn of events. 

“Such a pain,” Dabi drawled with a small sigh. Himiko’s eyes watered at the affection bleeding into his tone, and her tears stained the dark gray fabric of his tee-shirt. Slowly, her arms lowered so she could curl her fingers into the cloth, bunching it up and twisting it tight. A low, mournful groan resounded in her chest, and the dam broke to release fresh tears down her cheeks. She cried softly and pitifully into Dabi’s chest while he continued to nestle her head between his pectorals. “I knew it. You don’t have to pretend you’re all happy all the time, you know,” he said softly. “It’s okay to let it out every once in a while.” 

Himiko cried about a lot more than the nightmare. The emotions kept flowing and so did the tears, but Dabi patiently allowed her to sob it out, caring naught for the sizeable wet stain that developed on his tee-shirt. After about fifteen minutes of petulant crying, Himiko finally felt drained, both of energy and sadness. It left her feeling clean- like she’d stripped every layer of herself down to a raw being, ready to start anew. It was more refreshing than she’d ever thought possible. 

Dabi’s arm shifted to the nape of her neck as she slowly lifted her head to blink tearily at him. The scar tissue of his face stretched at the metal staples as he grinned. “Feel better?” 

“Yeah… Thanks,” Himiko smiled warmly and wiped the lingering tears away with the tips of her thumbs. Slowly, Dabi’s arm dropped from her shoulders to flop loosely to his side and slipped into his pajama pants’ pocket. Shyly, she clasped her hands behind her back and swayed her body from side to side. “You’re really nice when you wanna be!” she praised. Dabi snorted. 

“Yo, don’t go spreadin’ rumors or anything. If I hear you gloating to the others, I’ll burn your eyebrows off.” Himiko gasped, affronted, and slapped her hands over her brow to protect the thin bands of hair. Dabi laughed, but she didn’t doubt he would if she really talked. Not that she was going to, anyway- she liked the idea of sharing this secret with him. It almost felt like having a begrudgingly caring older brother who’d steal the moon for her if she asked, but wouldn’t admit to anyone that he did it out of love. 

“Don’t worry!” she assured, still holding her eyebrows. “It’s our secret! I’ll even pinky-swear!” Emphatically, she jammed out her pinky. Dabi snorted again, but smirked amusedly as he looped his pinky with hers. 

“Whatever. I’m goin’ back to bed,” Dabi gruffed, promptly turning on his heel to melt back into the dark, gloomy hallway. Himiko leaned around the corner of the wall to watch him retreat, holding her hands over her brow arches until she heard his bedroom door click. She then smiled contentedly, dropping her arms to her sides with a happy giggle. 

“It’s our secret,” she hummed to herself again. “I’m the only one ever who got to see Dabi’s soft side! Hehe, lucky me.” Himiko held a hand over her heart as warmth filled her body from head-to-toe. It was so unlike that hot, suffocating heat that enveloped her in the nightmare; this warmth was soft, embracing, like being wrapped in a cozy blanket after a long day in the cold. “Lucky me,” she repeated softly, eyelids drooping as she considered _how_ lucky she was- lucky to find this weird, quirky, dysfunctional little family. They were villains, but they deserved love and comfort too- and they were more than willing to show it when needed. 

“All right. Time for bed!” Himiko huffed and scampered back down the hall to her bedroom. Before she entered, she paused in the threshold and called softly down the hall, “G’night, Dabi.” There was a brief pause. 

“Night.” 

Himiko smiled broadly and shot into her bedroom, belly-flopping on the bed. Giggling contentedly, she snuggled into her pillow and once more looked at the dirty, decrepit ceiling. Sure, it was gross and probably a health hazard- but hey, it was _home_ , the home she shared with her family. She couldn’t ask for a better one.


	35. The Crawler's Day Off

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Koichi Haimawari, Kazuho Haneyama

A sedated smile decorated Koichi’s lips as he leisurely strolled across the sidewalk leading up to the spacious mall looming before him. To celebrate the conclusion of his college midterms, Kazuho had invited him to peruse the mall for a few hours. The mall’s hero merchandise shop had launched a new line of All Might hoodies, so naturally, Koichi was _mega_ -game. 

Heat simmered across the pavement as it soaked up the sizzling summer sun blazing in the azure sky. The bare skin of his limbs very much enjoyed soaking up the pleasant heat provided by the rays spearing down from the atmosphere. Though it was the height of the season, Koichi’s trusty All Might hoodie looped around his waist, the sleeves flopping against his thighs with every step. A vigilante never knew when or where they had to spring into action, after all. Since his gain in popularity, Koichi had taken to carting around his hoodie and mask wherever he went, just in case. 

“Koichiiiii~!” The young college boy stopped in his tracks, craning his head as his name floated out of the crowd eclipsing the mall’s entrance. After a quick scan, he spotted a shock of poofy magenta hair bouncing around a grinning bespectacled face. Koichi found his smile brightening as he spotted Kazuho. He quickened his pace, eagerly trotting up to her.

“Hey. Have you been waiting very long?” Koichi asked sheepishly, his smile crinkling with mild guilt. Kazuho smiled pleasantly as she shook her head. “Oh, great. Ready to go inside, then?” he asked with a gesture towards the automatic sliding glass doors. Kazuho responded with a bright “Yep!” and they strolled into the massive building together. 

As they stepped over the threshold, two things struck Koichi: the refreshing blast of the air conditioner and the cacophony of the throng. People milled about the mall’s central rotunda or meandered towards their favorite stores, all while chattering incessantly. As it was a Saturday, the nearby settlements’ young residents had flocked to the mall to escape the intense summer heat and indulge in some shopping. Shouting slightly to surpass the dissonance of a thousand conversations, he asked Kazuho, “What would you like to do first?” 

“Eh? Didn’t you want to go to that merch store or whatever, Koichi?” she asked loudly while playing with the voluminous end of one of her pigtails. Koichi’s cheeks pinkened at her consideration, and he rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes trailed to the colorful signs and cosplayed mannequins adorning the shop’s front. His blue eyes flickered back to the girl, who just regarded him curiously. 

“We can go there later,” he decided, though every cell in his body vibrated with the need to have his hands on the new limited-edition hoodie as soon as possible. Kazuho had been nice enough to invite him on the outing, so the least he could do was allow her to enjoy herself. “Is there anywhere you want to go?” 

Kazuho’s cheeks turned the color of her hair as her magenta eyes drifted eastward.

“Well,” she offered shyly, wringing her hands and jingling the bracelets around her wrist, “I’d really like to check out the bath products store… They have nice bath bombs…” Kazuho’s gaze flickered to him anxiously, as if she expected him to scoff in disdain. The boy just smiled and began walking purposefully towards that end of the mall. 

“All right, then! Bath bombs, here we come!” As he strode off, he heard Kazuho squeak, and her flats _slap-slapped_ after him. 

“Wait! _Koichi_!” 

~~~~~~~~~~

The bath bomb store nestled between a jewelry store and a bookstore. Koichi mulled about as Kazuho inspected the various wares piled in the plastic bin, picking up the compressed balls of soap and sniffing them to decide on her favorite aromas. Koichi realized that he was the only male in the store, but he didn’t mind; Kazuho’s eyes sparkled with delight as she sampled the bath bombs, so he was content as long as she was. As he waited patiently for her to choose her purchases, he meandered around, flipping open random bottles of shea butter lotions and shower gels to sniff them. He had to admit, quite a few of them smelled very lovely indeed. 

As he sniffed at a bottle of red apple-scented shower gel, a sudden scream made him gasp and drop the bottle. Droplets of viscous ruby liquid splashed across the white tile as he dashed to the storefront, looking left and right. People shrieked and tripped over one another as they raced away like scattered marbles. Koichi’s keen eyes tracked their frantic movements to their origin- the jewelry store next door. 

“Put it all in the bag! Hurry up!” A villain cornering a terrified jeweler barked savagely as he brandished a wicked-looked firearm in her face. Upon closer inspection, Koichi realized that the weapon actually morphed out of his hand. _He can turn his body into guns? Freaky!_ Koichi thought as he gawked shamelessly. He only stumbled backward when Kazuho forcibly yanked him, dragging him around the displays of shampoos and conditioners and lotions to the back of the store. The cashiers and other customers huddled behind the register counter, one of them frantically speaking to an emergency operator. 

“Koichi! Are we gonna do something?” Kazuho hissed as she squatted down behind a round display, jerking him down into a crouch beside her. Koichi frowned; though he’d brought his disguise, a mall was a terribly busy place. Several pro heroes were bound to be patrolling the complex, and they wouldn’t take well to a pair of vigilantes up-staging them. However, he could hear the frightened jewelry store girl pitifully sobbing as she frantically gathered the gold and silver wares at gunpoint. 

“Someone has to do something,” he resolved, untying his hoodie so he could slink his arms through the sleeve and tug the hood up over his head. He fished his mask out of the pocket and strapped it over his face. “Stay here, Pop. Make sure the people in here are safe,” he ordered in a whisper before crawling out from behind the display. 

“Okay. Be careful!” Kazuho whispered, her magenta eyes wide as she watched him slowly crawl on all fours back to the front of the store. 

The mall was a ghost town; all the patrons had fled en masse, leaving the area silent except for the whimpers of the jewelry shop attendant and the angry curses of the robber. Koichi’s eyebrows narrowed in stark peaks over his oceanic eyes as he peered around the edge of the slim wall adjoining the two shops. One gun jutted out of the gunman’s leg to pin down the quivering security guard hunched in the corner between two bullet-ridden, shattered glass display cases. _It looks like he can control the guns independently and produce them from any point on his body… That could be a problem,_ he frowned thoughtfully. 

Still, time was of the essence. Koichi _had_ to try. 

Activating his Quirk, he zoomed across the tile, zig-zagging towards the gunman. Though Koichi’d hoped to catch him by surprise, the young girl gasping “oh!” when she caught sight of him rapidly slithering in made the villain whip around. Three pistols sprung up from his shoulders to automatically pepper Koichi with shots. The vigilante hurriedly hurled himself sideways to roll behind an undamaged display, though a bullet grazed his shin and splashed blood across the floor. He hissed at the sharp sting that bloomed across the nerve endings of his leg. 

“Who’s there? A hero?” the villain demanded. Koichi heard the girl screech and dissolve into blubbering sobs. Eyes narrowed, Koichi peered into the reflection of a small viewing mirror. Through the cracked glass, he observed the assailant grab the jeweler roughly by the arm and yank her halfway over the counter while pressing the barrel of the gun against her temple. “Don’t you get any funny ideas!” he snarled over the desperate wails of the terrorized woman, who probably didn’t get paid enough for this. “I’ll do it! _I swear_!” He punctuated the promise with a cock of the gun, making the girl moan mournfully. 

“Hey, hey, now,” Koichi called nonchalantly, easing his raised hands over the top of the counter with his arms tensed to yank them down in case the startled gunman tried to blow his fingers off. The unstable villain just watched with bloodshot eyes as Koichi inched his head up over the bullet-nicked counter. “Let’s just take it down a notch, both of us, yeah? I ain’t lookin’ for a fight.” 

The villain’s eyebrow twitched as he regarded the teenager skeptically. With his hands still extended over his head, Koichi directed both his index fingers to the crying woman. “I just want the girl, yeah? You can rob the store all you want, but let’s just let her go, okay? This is _way_ above her paygrade.” 

“Yeah, but then I’d be deprived of a hostage.” 

Finally, Koichi got a good glimpse of the offender. A muscle-bound brute well over six-feet, two-hundred pounds, the young vigilante only hoped to defeat him with a surprise attack with the frightened girl well out of harm’s way. Koichi’s eyes widened as he heard a few of the guns protruding from the villain’s body click, and he waved his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, man! It’s all good! I don’t have any fancy tricks up my sleeve.” He grinned cheesily as he all but lied through his teeth. 

“Please,” the young girl pleading miserably through hiccuping sobs. “Just let me go. Take all the jewelry and money, I don’t care, just please- _ahhhhhh_!” Her pleas morphed into another round of screaming as the gunman shoved her down into the broken glass. His eyes trained on Koichi, who gradually edged himself to the left each time the opportunity presented itself. 

“Shut up, bitch. Finish loading up the goods!” he snarled and shoved her harshly away. The girl tripped over her heels and landed on her rump, but hurriedly crawled to the case to begin shoveling rings and necklaces and earrings into the sack through blurry tears. When the man was momentarily distracted by ordering her around, Koichi dropped back onto all fours. He activated his Quirk to zoom up the wall and across the ceiling. 

“What the hell-? _Hey_!” the man yelled, whipping around the shoot several of his guns at Koichi, who zig-zagged across the ceiling a skittering spider. The bullets narrowly avoided him, punching holes in the thin cardboard of the ceiling tiles. The girl took the opportunity to escape; panting, she clambered on all fours away from her assailant. Unfortunately, the man took notice. He materialized a new set of guns fixed directly on her crawling form. “Get back here!” 

As the guns exploded with loud pops, Koichi dove down the wall to scoop up the attendant, wrapping his arms around her middle and throwing all his weight to his left. He carried her with him as he rolled over behind another counter. He deposited her near the rattled security guard, who yelled at their sudden appearance. 

“Hold on. I’ll get you out of here,” Koichi ordered with a stern point of his finger. The white-faced girl just nodded frantically, irises swimming in a white sea. The villain now stamped around the back of the counter, cursing loudly and shooting in random directions as he gathered up his haul. Koichi carefully timed the firing of the guns with his sharp eyes to rapidly discern a pattern. He pinpointed a minute gap in their interval, one that would allow him to scoop up the two hostages and escape. Koichi had no care to combat the crazed, infuriated man; he’d leave that to the pro heroes. He was fast, not bulletproof. 

“Now!” he cried, grabbing hold of the man and woman in the split-second gap between the gunfire. He kicked off the counter using his Quirk to boost his force, sending them hurtling out of the jewelry store into the common area. Koichi slammed into a sofa, flinging the two hostages around either side while he slid down the back of the couch with an agonized groan. He quickly recollected himself, rubbing his bruised nose and rising to peek around the spine of the couch. Though thoroughly rattled, neither hostages were significantly injured. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“ _Get back here, you little shit_!” 

“Oop! Time to dash,” Koichi gulped, dropping back down to all fours and firing up his Quirk. He zoomed away, zig-zagging to dodge the bullets raining down around him. He slipped right through the legs of a police officer rushing towards the scene with his gun drawn. It seemed the cavalry had finally arrived, and Koichi had no care to stick around for the conclusion. He’d saved the civilians; that’s all that mattered. 

Koichi hurriedly slipped into an abandoned side exit hall and stripped himself of his All Might hoodie and mask, stashing it in a decorative plant and playing the part of the frightened onlooker as a few police officers and a sidekick dashed by. After they migrated off, satisfied the stammering boy cowering behind the fern was not their masked illegal hero, Koichi bought himself a bottle of water from the nearby vending machine. He drained it to the dregs in three large gulps. He tossed it into the nearby trashcan and then sunk onto the metal bench beside it, sagging as the adrenaline caught up to him. 

“Ahhh… So much for a relaxing trip to the mall,” Koichi pouted. Still, as he fingered the fabric of his All Might hoodie still stuffed down between the broad leaves of the fresh-smelling fern, he smiled brightly. He saw the woman and security guard being led to safety, shock blankets hugging their forms. The woman paused when she glanced at him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. As tears filled her eyes, she mouthed a simple thanks before allowing the EMT to lead her away. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Koichi! Are you okay?” Kazuho cried as he limped through the glass double doors of the mall entrance. She rushed up at him, grabbing him by the biceps to look him up and down frantically. “The heroes just led the villain out in cuffs. What a brute! Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” 

“I’m fine, Pop,” he reassured her with an amused smile, regaled by her concern for him. “A bullet just grazed my leg; it’s nothin’ major. It isn’t even bleeding anymore.” Kazuho’s head dipped down to critically inspect the wound on his shin. After frowning at it for several seconds, she stepped away from him, cheeks pinkened. 

“You didn’t come back immediately… I was worried.” 

“Yeah,” he sighed apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing at the sweat coating his fingertips, “I lied low for a while to keep from attracting attention… I made a pretty good show of myself, after all.” 

“You sure did,” Kazuho laughed, pulling out her phone. She beckoned him to look over her shoulder as she pulled up a webpage; the video she showed him featured him zooming out of the jewelry store with the hostages in tow. The headline read,  _The Crawler’s Day Off? Heroic Mall Rescue by Naruhata Vigilante!_

“Wow,” he appreciated with a low whistle. “That was fast.” 

“Yup,” she agreed as she pocketed her smartphone. “I would say that was a productive day, wouldn’t you?” At her girlish giggle, Koichi’s body sagged, and he released a miserable whine. 

“No! I didn’t get that new hoodie! They’re probably all sold out now…” 

“Actually…” As Kazuho shyly spoke up, pressing the pad of her index finger to her lips as she bashfully swayed her hips from side to side, Koichi sprang up like a soldier snapping to attention. She snickered and pulled a shopping bag from behind her back. Koichi’s breath left him in an awed gasp. 

“Pop… You _didn’t_ …” 

“While you were laying low, I ran by the store and snagged the last one.” 

“ _Thank you_!” he trilled, snatching the bag as tears brimmed in his eyes. He cooed delightedly as he pulled the hoodie from the paper bag. He abandoned the container as he raised the article of clothing to adoringly admire it. “It’s spectacular… Pop, thank you!” he grinned, dropping the hoodie to reveal his absolutely beaming grin. Kazuho blushed and played with a chunk of her poofy pink hair. 

“Of course. I know how excited you were about it, so…” 

“But this must have cost so much! I have to pay you back.” As he went fishing his wallet out of his back pocket, Kazuho grabbed his wrist. 

“No, it’s okay,” she refused with a soft smile. She pulled her hand back, and Koichi’s arm flopped limply to his side as he stared at her in bewilderment. Going shy again, she once more swung her hips slowly from left to right and back again. “I was happy to buy it for you. You can just make it up to me by using it well.” 

Koichi blinked, humbled by her statement. Then, his grin widened, stretching his cheeks to an almost painful degree. He dropped his hoodie from his hips, depositing it in the shopping bag, before slipping his arms into the new one. “Y-you’re gonna wear that in this heat?!” Kazuho spluttered. 

“Yep,” Koichi smiled as he flapped the front of the jacket to settle it over his torso. He then leaned down to pick up the shopping bag. “Sure am. So, wanna head home? I’m starving.” 

Kazuho stared at him incredulously for a moment, then laughed mirthfully. 

“Sure. How about curry?” 

“Yum! My favorite!” 

_ Use it well,  _ Kazuho’s voice echoed in his mind as he strolled alongside her. The image of the woman thanking him then came to mind. 

_ Yeah, Pop. I sure will.  _


	36. The Lovers' Plum

Category: Romantic Drama

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Mythology AU; Feudal Japan AU

_Hi, everyone! Here is the story that I wrote for the Boku no Yokai Bang. I hope you all enjoy it!_

_The Coming of the Plum Tree Spirit_

The early afternoon breeze rustled the thin branches of the solitary plum tree, filling the air with a dull clattering as the sticks clacked against one another. The tiny limbs were laden with small pink buds; as the wind washed over them, their silken petals were plucked hence, wafting over the light winds before spiraling down to the emerald grass below. The lone plant stood sentinel atop a gently sloped hill overlooking the clustering huts of a humble Japanese fishing settlement three days' ride from Edo. Its voluminous bulk had overseen the gushing river since before man had ventured to its shores, and if luck be true, would behold its gentle majesty for many moons to come. Many cycles it had lived, turning pink with blossom and green with fruit and naked with winter's cold. In an odd twist of fate, it had also born witness to a particular phenomenon of humans- burgeoning love.

Springtime often brought them forth to plead beneath the plum tree. Young girls, and even boys from time to time, hiked the well-worn path from the outskirts of the village to the plum tree's throne, where they would kneel and clasp their hands in prayer. With tears blossoming in the corners of their entreating eyes, they would implore the ancient being for good fortune in their romantic endeavors. No one was quite sure how the sacred ritual began; humans were notorious for the spontaneous creation of folktales and legends, however. Perhaps one spirited little mind dreamt of a doomed romance beneath the fruit-laden branches, and myth watered its roots, turning the quaint plum tree into a being mystical and divine. Of course, a plum tree is but a plum tree; that is, until it _isn't_.

The plum tree spirit, who knew not of the conventions of calendars and days in the early stages of her life, could not say when she had blinked into existence. One fine morning where the birds hopped about the tree's branches to feast on its ripe purple-red fruits, she had simply blinked awake. Contained within the thick trunk of the tree, she gazed upon the world with fresh new eyes and beheld the majesty of the earth. She ventured out, pale and naked, to touch to grass blades to find them remarkably soft, and to chase the butterflies flitting over the wildflowers. She gasped in delight as the wispy white seeds scattered at her steps, taking to the wind to float away into the wild blue yonder and hopefully take root. The sun was warm on her skin, and the breeze gentle through her chestnut hair. The sky above blazed in resplendent blue, stained by the puffy masses of white clouds.

The plum tree spirit, though she knew not, was a minor god brought forth by the supplicant prayers of hopeful youths.

The newborn spirit spent the first few days of her life playing amongst the wild grasses and flowers, growing bolder day by day. She greeted the mother doe and her fumbling fawn, running ethereal fingers over the spotted fur. She hopped with a tawny spotted rabbit through the golden forest grass and delighted at the yellow tufts that tickled her cheeks and nose. She curled beneath the sprawling blanket of the plum tree's fruit-laden branches, nibbling at the succulent fruit and admiring the light playing through the emerald leaves. She even crept through the bushes along the small trail to catch glimpses of the thatch-and-wood houses and their residents, who hauled baskets laden with trout and shellfish from the river. Upon her first glimpse of them, the new god realized her corporeal form resembled the female humans'; however, they did not roam about uncovered like she. She studied the strange garments they cloaked themselves with and found that if she simply willed it into being, the cloth materialized and draped over her body. A _kimono_ , they called it. The plum tree spirit imbued it with a lovely pink hue, the exact shade of her tree's vivid petals.

The humans were like her in body, but the tree spirit knew that she was not _human_. As she lounged beneath the tree watching the sun sink below the horizon each day, she could not help but wonder what kind of being that she was, and why she was there. She had attempted to speak to the trees along the path, the black pines and red pines and white pines, but they were hollow and voiceless. It seemed that she was alone in this vast full world, a unique and singular existence.

The first days of her life were thus, though filled with the wonder of novelty, extraordinarily _lonely_.

_The Coming of Her Purpose_

The plum tree spirit awoke to the sound of hushed giggles. She had discovered that unless she desired it, humans could not see her; up until that point, she had rendered herself invisible, for she knew not how they would react to her sudden presence. The newborn deity peered through the skinny branches of her birth tree to see three human girls scampering up the path. The young god was delighted at their appearance, for perhaps their visit would provide insight into her anomalous presence. Curiously, she watched the girl in front, a beautiful woman with fluffy black hair pinned atop her head, kneel on the ground before the plum tree, and clasp her hands together tightly.

"O, great plum tree that has stood since time immemorial," the villager announced loudly, "I humbly beseech thee to grant my wish." The spirit's ears perked. _Wishes? Do I exist to grant the wishes of humans?_ The god stared at her hands, flexing her fingers. She couldn't fathom possessing an inherent power to grant the prayers of mortals. _Yet, if I exist for this purpose, I must try,_ she frowned. The girl's black eyes bored into the cocoa-brown bark of the plum tree with a desperate intensity. "Please, O Goddess of the Lovers' Plum, please bring me fair fortune!"

One of the girls behind her, a stoic one with short purple-black hair, frowned sardonically.

"Momo, you don't really believe that nonsense that praying to the plum tree will lead to you meeting your future lover in seven days, right?" she sighed with a shake of her head, placing her hands on her hips. "It's just an old folktale. I can't believe you dragged me up here for this…"

" _Hush_ , Kyoka!" the praying girl, evidently named Momo, hissed with an affronted glance over her shoulder. "You'll anger the spirit, and she won't grant my wish!" Kyoko's dissidence indeed angered the tree spirit. Still, she would not spurn the willful young lady for that. Instead, the youthful god grinned and sent a plum falling from the branches above her head. Kyoka yelped as the fruit slammed into her scalp. The plum burst open to spill sticky juice and yellow flesh into her hair. She whined miserably as it dripped onto the white fabric of her kimono. The other companion, a smiling young lady with hair pink like carnations, laughed mirthfully.

"You _see_ , Kyoka? You've angered the goddess!"

"Shut _up_ , Mina," Kyoka growled and disdainfully brushed the clumps of fruit from her head and shoulders. The tree spirit giggled mischievously and returned her attention to the prostrate girl. She had rested her hands on her lap and was staring miserably at the earth. Invisible to their eyes, the young god knelt beside her, staring intently at her forlorn expression. She had realized that humans experienced a phenomenon known as "emotions," and this one was akin to sadness.

"… I am but a humble seamstress," Momo lamented woefully. "I _beg_ my father to allow us to travel to Edo and take up shop there so that we may live a better life, but he is adamant we remain by the river. Our family has always resided here, from the time of his grandfather's grandfather." Her eyes became lidded as her bottom lip wobbled. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and the tree spirit brushed them away with her fingertips, though the girl likely dismissed it as a mere kiss from the breeze. The god marveled at the glistening tear decorating her finger, a bead of water like dew. She tasted it and then spat it out, finding it to be unbearably salty.

"I wish to meet a man who can spirit me far away from this miserable land!" Momo cried and laid the back of her hand to her forehead in misery. "I wish to see _grand_ things, and sell fine silks to lords and ladies, and live a life of plenty and comfort… Not scrounge for scraps on the shores of a river," she complained bitterly. The tree spirit was unsure why such a living was undesirable to a human, but then, many of their ways were foreign to her.

"Momo, we have to get going," Kyoka frowned and glanced down the path leading back to the settlement. "Your mother will be looking for you to mind the shop."

"Yes, yes," Momo sighed and rose, brushing the dirt from the fabric covering her knees. The tree spirit hurriedly jumped to her feet, wracking her brain for a manner in which to grant the wish. She elected to follow her instincts.

"Your prayer has been heard, and I grant you my blessing. Go forth and may love find you quickly," the young god recited and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Momo's forehead. The girl could not see or hear her, but yet, she blushed slightly and ran her fingertips over the skin there.

"I feel like the goddess heard me," Momo remarked joyfully to her friends as she trounced over to them. Mina grabbed her arm excitedly and beamed, while Kyoka rolled her eyes but smiled. The spirit watched them meander back down the trail; soon, their avid discussion of young love and hope faded into the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong. She then smiled and squealed and jumped up and down with glee.

At last, the tree spirit knew her purpose.

The tree spirit took to her newfound mission with fervor. Many came to pray to the tree for fair fortune. The god was delighted to find that young Momo had met a fisherman who traveled the length of the river to sell iron-forged weapons seven days after her appeal, and the two fell madly in love. She had immigrated to Edo and now sold hand-crafted kimonos to all manners of folk. The god only had a rudimentary understanding of love, but she could comprehend that love made the humans happy. Summer passed into winter, which moved into the spring. Nine months after she had come into being, the naïve but kind-hearted god met the human who would teach her what it truly meant to love another.

_The Coming of Katsuki Bakugo_

It was the height of May. The tree spirit had learned the calendar year through her furtive observations of the humans. The air simmered with the sun's blazing heat, so the tree spirit cooled herself beneath the shady sprawl of her home tree, humming a tune she had learned by watching a washerwoman. She perked up when she heard the unmistakable crunch of sandals upon hard, dried dirt. Sitting up straight and tucking her legs underneath her body, she patiently awaited the arrival of her latest patron. She cocked her head slightly when the muscular form of a man tromped around the corner.

He reminded her of the fishermen- toned and lean, with powerful, thick thighs and bulging arms. He was not dressed in the garb of fishermen, however. The boatmen wore light fabrics that covered their entire body to shield them from the sun's harsh rays, while this man wore a yukata of thick maroon cloth, with no sleeves and a hem that reached only to his knees. A red-and-white woven rope wound around his forehead. The fishermen were quite a merry bunch, as well, with smiles always alighting their faces and bawdy songs spilling from their lungs, but this human greeted the invisible goddess with a moody scowl. She fidgeted before him, wondering what could cause such irritation.

He stopped in front of the plum tree and gave it a brief once-over. He then snorted and flopped down on his side underneath its shady leaves, holding a hand to his mouth as he yawned. The god observed him fascinatedly, for no human had ever behaved in such a manner before.

"Goddess of the tree or whatever you are," he droned disinterestedly, "I hope you don't mind if I take a nap here. It's hot as shit today." The little god flushed, recognizing his language as coarse. She inspected him closer to find his brown skin sheened with sweat, and his hands calloused from toil. _So he is a laborer,_ she concluded. She was a goddess and was thus charged with the care of humans, so she supposed allowing the worker to shelter beneath her birth tree was acceptable. She frowned, wishing the plums were in season so she could grant him some fruit to eat. It mattered not, for he was already snoring, resting his head against his arm. The plum tree spirit smiled and stroked his back soothingly.

"Sleep well beneath my blossoms, human man, and recover your strength. I bless you with good fortune in your future endeavors." She knew he could not hear her, but she fancied he did, because he grunted in his sleep. As he slept beneath her branches, the god observed him critically. He was quite handsome, for a human, with chiseled rugged features and ash-blond hair. His eyes were a brilliant vermilion like the wild red roses that grew along the hill path. She wondered if he did not need to pray for love, because surely such a beautiful human man would be popular among young ladies.

The young man rested for about an hour, until the sun had passed its height to begin its slow descent. He likely would have slept for longer, had it not been for the angry shouting that floated up the hill. The tree spirit straightened up, peering into the greenery as the cursing and yelling grew louder. The human man groaned and scowling, cracking one of his red eyes open to glare reproachfully at the small gap in the bushes that marked the entrance to the hilltop. A man dressed in similar garb, only green, charged through the brambles, red-faced and chest heaving.

"Katsuki Bakugo! What the hell are you doing up here, lounging like a house cat?! You had seventeen orders to fill today!" the angry human scolded. The vermilion-eyed laborer, whom the goddess now knew as Katsuki, scowled condescendingly.

"I filled them, so I came up here to take a nap. Tell me, old man, how much time have you wasted looking for me when you could have been bartering with the tradesmen on the river?" Katsuki remarked and studied the cuticles of his nails. The tree spirit held a hand to her mouth, appalled by the level of disrespect. From what she understood, Katsuki was subservient to this new man, and therefore ought to treat him with honor and dignity. His words carried the tone of anything but. Katsuki sneered as his superior could only sputter and turn the color of a tomato. " _Uh-huh_."

"You're so lucky you're Mitsuki's son, or I would fire you in an instant!" the man fumed and stamped his foot. Katsuki frowned and stared unapprovingly up at him. "I owe a life debt to your mother and offer you a place in my business, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking off after you do the bare minimum?!"

"All right, all right, old man, you're gonna bust my eardrum," Katsuki grimaced, digging a finger deep into one of his ear canals. Leisurely, he lifted himself into a sitting position. "If you wanted me to stay in the shop to pick up the slack of those other extras, you shoulda said so." The man growled and pointed a bright red finger at Katsuki but decided that further argument was worthless. He whirled on his heel to tromp back down the pathway, while Katsuki laughed mischievously and shouted after him, "I'm gonna inherit your business one day, you old fart! _Watch me_!" The plum tree spirit was baffled by the entire exchange, but yet, she could not help but find the spirited young human captivating.

"Bah. Old asshole," Katsuki huffed and rubbed the short hairs at the base of his neck while he climbed to his feet. He made to begin walking, but then glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. The goddess would have been directly within his line of sight if he could see her. "… Thank you for allowing me to rest here," he said with a slight bow.

Then he was gone, stomping off into the bushes. The spirit craned her head to watch the ash-blond tufts of his hair vanish amongst the green. After he melted into the wilderness, she reclined against the thin trunk of the plum tree with a small smile. _What an interesting human,_ she thought jubilantly. _I wonder if I shall ever see him again._

_The Coming of Ochako_

Ironically enough, Katsuki Bakugo did return the following day- and the next and the next, every day for more than the plum tree spirit could keep count. He would always come to snooze the height of the afternoon away, and then be hauled off by his disgruntled boss. Without fail, Katsuki would thank her for graciously sheltering him from the heat. The young goddess soon looked forward to his coming every afternoon- and began to muster up the courage to appear before a human for the first time.

The blossoms had born fruit, and emerald leaves had sprouted by the time she made her move. He came just as he came every day, sauntering up the path to toss himself to the ground unceremoniously. This time, she hovered behind the skinny tree trunk, peering through the small bough to watch him march up the hill. _I must be brave! I must make myself known to this human,_ she told herself. She hovered behind the plum tree, her pink kimono ruffling in the summer breeze, and held her breath as his ash-blond hair appeared above the fringe of the tall bushes. His bulky form soon followed. When his red eyes landed on her, he froze mid-step.

"I, um," he stammered with an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks. He pointed quickly down the path. "I can come back later; no one usually comes to pray at this time…"

"No, no!" she squeaked, scurrying out from her hiding spot as he began to turn. "Please stay. I'm not praying here." His expression grew even more confused, but he obediently remained rooted to the spot. Flushing, the plum tree spirit bowed low. "I am the spirit of the plum tree. I have much desired to meet you formally." She peeked between the chestnut waves of her locks to witness his reaction. His mouth hung open in shock for a few seconds, and those vermilion eyes beheld her in wonder.

He then began to cackle with loud laughter.

"Bahahahaha! What a _joke_!" he howled. She straightened up with knitted eyebrows as he sniggered uncontrollably. He held his belly and doubled over, tears dripping from his blond lashes as his entire body shook. "My dickhead of a boss musta put you up to this. How much did he pay you, huh? Plum tree spirit… Pffft, _as if_!"

"How _dare_ you!" she fumed. She balled up her fists and stamped her feet angrily. The branches of the plum tree began to writhe and quiver despite there being no gale, and the purple fruits started to plummet to the earth. They burst open in showers of gold, scattering their large pods. "I really _am_ the spirit of the plum tree! What a rude human you are, to belittle me when I have allowed you to sleep under my protection for weeks now!" The shadows of the plum tree began to grow blacker and stretch with a dark malice. Katsuki yelped and began to back-pedal; he tripped over his own feet and landed on his rump.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait! I'm sorry!" he protested, waving his hands in surrender as he regarded her with a frightened expression. "It's just- I don't- you don't _look_ like a god."

"Well, a god I am, so you shall respect me _as such_!" she huffed and crossed her arms. However, she was satisfied with his acknowledgment, so she relaxed. The plum tree returned to normal, though the sickly-sweet aroma of plums now hung in the air. She regarded the busted fruit with a frown. It would not go to waste, as the birds and beasts would feast upon the succulent flesh, but it was still a shame to make a mess of the place. Katsuki slowly sat up, still gawking at her with a mixture of wonder and awe.

"What's your name?"

"Name? I do not have one," she answered, pressing her finger to her lips. "I was not _given_ one. I am simply the spirit of the plum tree."

"That's a mouthful," he snorted. He seemed more at ease now; he was sitting on his haunches, with his legs drawn up and his muscular arms draped over his knees. He pondered for a moment, then smirked. "How about 'Ochako'? Does that please you, Miss Goddess?" His tone was teasing, but his smirk made her heart race for a reason other than ire. She shuffled her feet and wrung the fold of her kimono nervously.

"O-ochako will do just fine."

"Ochako, then. My name's Katsuki." Ochako supposed she could reply that she was very much aware, but it was customary for humans to introduce themselves, so she refrained. "I make fireworks."

"Fireworks?" she inquired. In all her time observing the humans, she had not heard such a term. His face visibly brightened at her ignorance.

"Yeah, fireworks! They're made by combining gunpowder with dyes and other compounds. Then you light them with fire, and they shoot up into the sky to explode into a huge blast of color!" he grinned, gesturing with his hands. Ochako's brown eyes widened with wonder. Even with his description, she could not imagine such a magnificent display. He leaned back on his hands and smiled warmly at her. "I sailed in with the old man from Edo. Every year, this little backwater village holds a festival to celebrate the river god. It draws in people from all over the country, surprisingly. Me and the old man sail here in May to prepare, and trade with the locals, too, and then in August, we launch all the fireworks to honor the god." He paused with a frown. "You're a god here, so surely you must have seen it?" he frowned. Ochako shook her head.

"No. I was born only last summer, very late." she frowned. "There are many things of this world that I have yet to know and see…" Katsuki grimaced and regarded her curiously.

"How were you born?"

"I am not entirely sure, but I believe I came from the wishes of the locals," she said with a glance of the plum-laden tree. She smiled wistfully, thinking back to her first prayer, Momo the seamstress. "I came from the hope in their hearts to help grant them fortune in the endeavors of true love. I am not sure if I possess any _real_ power, but I give them my blessing, all the same." She glanced back at him with a light laugh. "Truth be told, when you first climbed this hill, I thought that you were coming to pray, not _sleep_!" Katsuki blushed and shifted a little on the ground. "But you are such a handsome human, so surely you don't need my blessings. I am sure you already have a fine wife." His face turned the color of her kimono, and he looked away with a pout. Ochako raised her eyebrows. "Am I mistaken…?"

"Yup. Don't really have time for a woman. We travel all throughout Japan sellin' fireworks and all. Not too many gals are willin' to live a life like that," he said quietly. Ochako detected a hint of bitterness in his voice. Expression concerned, she walked over to kneel beside him, tucking her kimono under her calves.

"Would you like me to give you my blessing?"

"Nah," he laughed and smiled confidently at her. "I just came here to nap." Ochako giggled, holding her hand to her mouth like she often saw the refined ladies that sometimes sailed into the village did.

"Very well. I can grant _that_ wish." She rose and gestured to the circle of shade surrounding the plum tree. Katsuki followed her over, and she knelt once more, then patted the plush of her thighs. He raised a hesitant eyebrow. "It's all right. I'm sure I am much more comfortable than the ground." Slowly, he eased himself onto his back perpendicular to her seated form and rested the back of his head on her lap. He wiggled a little to get himself comfortable, then relaxed his hands on his stomach, fingers laced together. His brilliant red eyes sparkled like rubies as they gazed attentively up at her.

"Have you really been alone up here all this time?" he asked her quietly. Ochako blinked, then smiled sweetly and looked out into the quaint little wood surrounding the hill.

"Yes. I am the only one here," Ochako confirmed, "but it's all right. I am blessed with the smiles of my patrons and the living creatures of the wood. It may be a solitary life, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. It is a fulfilling existence to bring others happiness. I may be but a minor god, but that is my charge. I will accept that role readily." She glanced down at him to find him smiling kindly.

"When fall comes, and I sail off, I'll tell everyone about Ochako the Plum Tree Goddess. Soon you'll be known far and wide, and a shrine will be built in your honor." Ochako beamed at that, visions of a sparkling and well-tended shrine with _miko_ s blooming in her imagination.

"That would be lovely," she agreed with a nod. "But until then, I shall be content if you but visit me." Katsuki laughed.

"Yeah, okay, Ochako." His red irises vanished beneath his closing eyelids. His breathing soon became deep and unlabored. Ochako smiled benignly and stroked his forehead, admiring the softness of his fluffy blond hair.

 _Yes,_ she thought blissfully, _just keep resting here beneath my boughs, and I shall never be alone._

_The Coming of a Goddess' Love_

As promised, Katsuki returned to the Lovers' Plum every day to speak with Ochako. They sat side-by-side against the thin trunk, and he regaled her with the many, many wonders of the human world. Ochako learned more listening to Katsuki than in her year of secretly observing the humans. She was delighted to learn that they were a very innovative breed, creating a plethora of remarkable tools and novelties. Their creativity and ingenuity were unmatched by any being on this earth.

However, she was also saddened to learn that humans could also be devastatingly violent. Katsuki told her of roving bands of rogues who pillaged farmsteads, of great wars waged between immense hosts of forces, of the seeds of evil that germinated within individuals and caused them to steal and murder and rape. Ochako surmised that it was merely the balance of nature, as light cannot exist without an equal dark, but regardless it still depressed her. Humans were such charming beings. She hated that within them festered the tendencies for destruction.

As June passed into July, the air grew warmer- as did their relationship. They took to wandering the woods, admiring the fanciful splendors of the natural world. On one such occasion, they stumbled upon a vast field of wildflowers- a colorful rainbow as far as the eye could see. Ochako squealed and dove into the blanket of petals, watching as her movements sprung them from their confines, and they raced away on the wind. Her fingers trailed over them, feeling their softness, and her eyes beheld fluttering butterflies and bobbling bumblebees gathering the pollen and feasting on the nectar. When she turned to invite Katsuki into the magical field, he was already right there, tucking a bloom behind her ear and giving her a smile that made her heart race in a manner she had never felt.

"Ochako," he breathed with a gentle look.

"Yes?"

" _You're beautiful_." His fingers took a swathe of her soft brown hair, his thumb stroking along the strands. She flushed and held a hand to her cheek; she was unable to look at him for her bashfulness. He seemed not to mind her lack of response, for he continued to gaze at her with that smoldering warmth that sent unbridled joy pulsing through her body.

From that day forth, Ochako looked forward to his coming with an overwhelming rapture. One day, at the tail end of July, Katsuki posed the notion of venturing into the village.

"I'm not sure, Katsuki," she frowned, kneeling amongst the roots of the tree. The fruits were growing overripe and falling from the branches, leaving the grasses sticky and coated with the golden juice. Birds and beasts scrounged for the mushy flesh and seed pods left behind in the fruits' fermentation. "You are the only human I have ever revealed myself to."

"You don't have to tell anyone you're a god," he reassured. "Please. I want to enjoy more than just a measly hour or two with you." Ochako flushed at that, fidgeting as that incredible joy wrapped around her heart like ribbon. Curling a piece of her hair around her finger, she pondered the suggestion. _I suppose it's all right, as long as I pretend that I am human._ Thus, she agreed, and Katsuki promised to retrieve her that afternoon around sunset.

After he bid her farewell, Ochako experienced true impatience for the first time. She restlessly paced the small area around her plum tree, and even fidgeted distractedly during the few prayers she granted. The sun seemed to mock her by inching along the blue expanse, refusing to go at a pace more than a snail's crawl. That was actually one way in which Ochako occupied herself- by watching one of the shelled creatures slide along a large grass blade. When it reached the summit, bending the grass blade under its heavy weight, it wiggled its antenna and pondered its next move. It turned around and began slinking down the way it came.

After what seemed a life age, the blue sky began to bleed with red and orange and gold. The sun melted behind the collection of houses hugging the river. One by one, the settlement's torches blazed to life, illuminating the area with flickering fire. The thatch roofs caught the sunlight to burn gold, and the few glimpses of the water Ochako could catch from her high perch revealed the river to be sparkling like the stars.

"Katsuki!" Ochako squealed when he came traipsing through the bushes. She rushed to him, beaming, and he affectionately ruffled her bouncy brown hair. She crooned in delight and nuzzled into his palm. Though it was roughened by much toil, it still felt nice when he caressed her.

"Ready?" he asked with an endearing smile. Ochako nodded ecstatically. "Let's go, then." She blushed bright pink when he offered her his hand. From the way the village girls talked, holding hands was a romantic gesture, at least within humans their age range. Ochako gulped and timidly reached out to grasp his hand. Her fingers slid alongside his like a mechanism locking into place- _naturally_. His hand was so warm, and the calloused skin felt pleasurable against her soft palm. Her heart jumped in her throat as he allowed their arms to fall loosely between them, and they swung slightly with every step they took down the path. As the buildings grew larger and larger, she found herself pressing into his hefty frame, as if he could shield her from the unknown.

The village rang with noise, even at night.

The air hummed with pleasant conversation. The denizens lounged on their porches to enjoy the warm summer evening, smoking on pipes and sharing bottles of sake. Children squealed as they chased fireflies in their yards or bounced rubber balls with sticks or wrestled with dogs in the mud. The grass gave way to wooden walkways that connected the houses and extended onto the river, where the fishermen moored their boats. With the coming of night, they had ventured in from the water and were clustered around barrels, laughing raucously as they bet on cards or shogi games. Every once in a while, they would get heated and start brawling, only to tumble into the river and come up laughing. The glow from the braziers cast a warm red glow on everything that complimented the natural light of the full moon above. Ochako's head swiveled on her neck as she attempted to absorb every detail of the humans' lives as she could. Katsuki watched her with an amused smirk.

"Here's where I work," he announced when they had ventured deep into the waterfront settlement. It was a large building set back from the water. It was open to the air, with only a sloped roof to shield it from the elements. Smoke poured from within, and Ochako's nose wrinkled at the acrid scent of earthy minerals. "Would you like to see the fireworks?" Ochako nodded eagerly; she had been much enthralled with the human device since their first meeting. Katsuki chuckled and brought her inside.

" _Eijirou_!" he called as he lifted the cloth flap that served as a door, though large open windows framed either side of it. Large tables stretched throughout the space and were laden with a variety of objects Ochako knew not the name for. A redheaded man came trotting out of the gloom, wiping his hands on a cloth with soot staining his smiling face.

"Hey, Katsuki! Comin' to burn the midnight oil? We still have a lot to do before the River God Festival."

"Hell no," Katsuki snorted derisively. He raised his arm to reveal Ochako, who was hiding behind his massive bulk and peering shyly around his ribs at the newcomer Eijirou. "I came to show her around."

"Oh, is that so? So, _you're_ the girl Katsuki's been sneaking off to see every afternoon," the redhead grinned with a playful wink. Ochako's cheeks brightened as she peeked up at Katsuki. _Does he talk about me?_ Katsuki _tch_ ed and gave Eijirou a dismissive wave, but from the delighted twinkle in his red eyes, Ochako could tell that Katsuki looked upon the other fondly. She gulped and snuck further behind Katsuki's back as Eijirou approached. He gripped his chin and stepped around the blond to inspect her critically. She pressed her face into Katsuki's back, peering bashfully at him through the gap in her brown hair. "Well, no wonder our Katsuki is so smitten. You sure are a cutie!"

"Oi! Go make yourself useful, Shitty Hair," Katsuki growled and shoved Eijirou in the shoulder.

"Hey now, hey now, I'm not intruding," the redhead smirked and pranced away. "I'm just stating facts, that's all~!" With a giddy laugh, Eijirou made himself busy assembling the fireworks. Curious now, Ochako peeled herself away from the man to ease over. She froze when Eijirou glanced out of his peripheral vision at her, but he only smiled and continued about his business. She crept up to the table, craning her neck to observe the process. He was loading a multitude of grainy particles into a tube, then capping them with a conical shape. A large pile of them already sat on the edge of the table, hued in blues and greens and reds. She poked one experimentally, then tugged at the black strings on the end.

"Careful," Katsuki warned and gently pulled her fingers away. "Those are the fuses. We light them to shoot them off. Wouldn't want these exploding down here," he smiled gently.

"Yeah, the boss'd _really_ kill you then," Eijirou snickered. Katsuki scowled and stuck out his tongue at him.

"That old man won't do shit because he's too busy pining after my old lady."

"Yeah," Eijirou laughed, "your mom sure has fun letting him cling to her skirts. You know he bought her a real ruby hairpin the other day? Are you sure your mom isn't actually-"

"Hey, you watch it," Katsuki warned and jabbed a finger into his chest. "My mom would _never_ cheat on my old man with that greasy old fart." Eijirou laughed and held his hands up in surrender.

"All right, all right, I was just kidding." Katsuki snorted and grabbed Ochako by her elbow to gently lead her out of the fireworks shop. She hurriedly looked over her shoulder and gave Eijirou a wave of farewell.

" _Tch_. Shitty smiling jerk," Katsuki grumbled.

"He seems like a good friend," Ochako smiled. Katsuki blushed, then shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"He's all right. He makes work a hell of a lot less boring." Ochako snickered at his reluctance to admit his fondness for the boy. It was a very Katsuki thing to do.

They continued to wander the township, eventually arriving upon a stall selling jeweled accessories. Ochako had always admired the hairpins some of the young girls wore when they ventured up to her plum tree and had secretly yearned for a pretty adornment. She released Katsuki's hand to scamper over to the stall. She cooed over a bright pink one inlaid with round pink gems and styled in the likeness of a plum blossom. The aged man operating the booth smiled kindly.

"Ah, yes. That's a popular model. The young girls around here fancy it as homage to the Lovers' Plum." Ochako blushed as she was unintentionally praised. She held up the hairpin, admiring the way the moonlight played over the crystalline gems. Ochako knew that such items required money to acquire, however, and as a goddess with no human trade, she possessed no funds. A bit blue, she set the hairpin down on the counter- only for Katsuki to throw down a handful of bills.

"That should cover it, right, old man?" The stall tender pursed his lips and leafed through the wad of cash, handing a few of them back to Katsuki before pushing the hairpin towards Ochako.

"Katsuki, you didn't have to-" He shushed her and picked up the hairpin. Her eyes widened as he tenderly pushed the accessory into her curling brown hair, pinning the gorgeous flower right above her ear. His hand fell so that his fingertips brushed over her cheekbone, spreading a pink haze in its wake. The pads of his fingers traveled to her mouth, resting over her lips.

" _Beautiful_."

It was in that moment that Ochako the plum tree spirit realized that she was head-over-heels in love with the human Katsuki Bakugo.

_The Coming of the Colorful Night_

A delighted smile graced Ochako's lips as she admired her reflection in the rain puddle. The flower hairpin glimmered in the sunlight, accenting the rosy blush ever-present in her youthful cheeks. She sighed dreamily and laid on her belly in the damp grass, kicking her feet over her back. She imagined the smirking personage of Katsuki in the water, and the way he smiled so affectionately at her that night. She whispered his name, and just that small action sent tingles of joy flooding through her nerves. With a squeal, she clutched her beating heart and rolled over.

_At last, I know what it means to be in love!_

It was a wonderful feeling. Ochako knew now why the humans so desperately sought its graces. Her soul felt like it was continually floating on air, giving her a blissful weightless sensation. Her face ached from incessantly smiling, but it was a _good_ ache. She could occupy her mind for hours reminiscing of their many ventures. She sighed wistfully again and watched the breeze toss about the emerald leaves of her tree. The golden light was filtering through, dappling her body with shadow.

Unfortunately, Katsuki would not be visiting today. It was the afternoon of the River God Festival, and the shop owner had insisted on his presence. However, Katsuki _did_ promise to collect her near sundown so that they could watch the fireworks together. When she had inquired if that would anger his boss, he haughtily replied that he didn't much care. The sun was sinking through the sky, drawing ever closer to the horizon, and Ochako was awaiting his arrival with bated breath.

_Tonight, I am going to tell him that I love him!_

She rolled onto her belly and watched a ladybird crawl up a blade of grass. Resting her cheek on her forearm and smiling blissfully, she fantasized about her impending confession. Surely, Katsuki loved her as well; she was not ignorant of the way he looked at her. He actively sought out her presence and often called her beautiful or gorgeous, and he always held her hand tightly, as if he never wanted to let go. Then that look in his eyes- that _look_ like he was beholding the most sublime creature on earth, one that held his entire body and soul. If that was not love, then Ochako didn't know what was.

She hopped to her feet when she heard the familiar sound of footsteps.

"Hey, Ochako," Katsuki beamed when she jumped up to scuttle over to him. She threw her arms around him in a hug, burying her nose into his sternum and breathing in the strong scent of sulfur and gunpowder that clung to him. She had grown used to the odor and now found it very soothing. His strong arms surrounded her in a returned embrace, and he pressed his face into the top of her head. "Are you ready?" She nodded ecstatically and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

"Let's go, hurry so that we can find a good spot!" she demanded and tore away from him to start running down the path. He grabbed her wrist, and she jerked back. When she looked at him confusedly, he gestured to the plum tree. "We'll be able to see them from here?" she asked and looked down the path again, unsure.

"I promise. After all, all we only need to see the sky," Katsuki said and pointed above their heads. Ochako looked up with a frown. The sky above the plum tree was remarkably clear and wide, not tainted by the light of the township below. Ochako elected to take him at his word, and they tromped over to the tree, sitting at its base. Their sides pressed together, and Katsuki kept their hands linked, running the pad of his thumb over the top of her hand. It made jolts of electricity travel up her arm, but she _loved_ the feeling.

The sun slowly sank into the river, and the watchful night closed in. One by one, the stars blinked into existence, sparkling like gems in the vast expanse of the blue-black sky. The crescent moon hung low, bathing the world in just enough of its glow to cast long black shadows. The gloom enveloped Ochako and Katsuki like a blanket. Even in the darkness, his ruby eyes glimmered as they flickered to her. His smile curled on his lips, but when she went to speak, he put a finger to his mouth and gestured upwards with his chin.

There was a sound like a shriek, and then a resounding pop. Ochako jumped at the sudden noise, but it was soon forgotten as color exploded against the dark backdrop of the night sky. Ruby-red sparkles filled the air, spreading like tree roots across the blackness before fizzling out. More shrieks sounded in the distance, and the sky came alive with more color than Ochako had ever seen. Her mouth hung open as she gawked shamelessly at the splendorous display unfolding before her.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"Yeah. It sure is." She glanced at him to find him staring right at her. That sweet smile like she was the thing dearest to him graced his lips, and his vermilion eyes glimmered with a roaring flame no water could ever douse. Her heart thumped hard against her ribcage as his gaze dropped down to her lips. She gulped slightly, digging her fingers into the fabric of her kimono, as his hand slowly rose to cup her cheek. " _Ochako_ ," he breathed. His thumb traced a trail across her cheekbone in repetitive caresses. She watched with lidded eyes as the colors played across his face, dull glows of red and blue and green and gold kaleidoscoping in a beautiful array. His face edged closer, and her eyes fell closed in anticipation.

His lips molded over hers like the sweetest honey. Ochako's chest swelled with a deep inhale at the wondrous feeling. It felt like she had long been lost, and she had finally returned _home_. She pushed into the kiss, desperate for more contact, and her hands jumped forward to splay across his chest. His hand pushed into her hair to grip the back of her head and angle it, kissing her with more fervor. The fireworks continued to explode overhead, but Ochako no longer thought them magical. No, the magical thing was this man in front of her, the man who had appeared so suddenly one day and taught her what it meant to love.

When they pulled apart, tears glimmered in her eyes.

"Katsuki. _Katsuki_ , I love you," she blurted. The words had ballooned within her, filling her chest with a painful tightness. She suddenly had the suspicion she was going to disappear, perhaps even before her waking eyes. "I love you _so_ much. _Please_ , I-" He gently shushed her and placed two fingers over her lips, then leaned in to press a sweeter, chaste kiss to her mouth. His other hand fell to grasp hers and interlace their fingers.

"I love you too, Ochako," he murmured against her mouth, eyes still closed. Ochako groaned and melted against him, savoring their way their parted lips meshed and their breath mixed in the warm night air. He gripped her hips and pushed against her, and her body obeyed his silent command, laying back into the cool grass. He climbed atop her, her legs slotting perfectly before his spread knees, and he began to pepper her face with little kisses.

"I'm so fucking _grateful_ I stumbled upon this fucking plum tree-" he growled, his kisses becoming more fervent and open-mouthed. Ochako mewled as he dropped his head to plant lingering, ardent kisses along the column of her neck. His hands kneaded the plush flesh of her hips. She threaded her fingers into his tousled ash-blond hair and peered through her lashes. The emerald leaves of the plum tree blanketed them, and beyond that bloomed a brilliant night sky alive with all the colors of the universe.

There, with only the plum tree and that sky to bear witness, Ochako and Katsuki sealed their love for one another forevermore.

_The Coming of the End_

Katsuki didn't come the following day, or the next or the next. Ochako surmised it was the constant rain. It poured endlessly from the heavens like they were weeping, saturating the earth. Puddles bloomed on the ground and grew larger every day, and they melded into each other to create a latticework of water channels and small ponds. The water streamed down the slope of the hill to pool in the lower lands, and soon the path flooded over completely. Isolated atop her lonely knoll with the plum tree, Ochako recalled Katsuki's hands blazing trails across her body, and the clouds of their breath misting in the cooling night, and the way they sang each other's names to the skies.

The rain continued for several weeks, and then it stopped. The sun finally breached the barrier of the gray clouds to shower the earth in its spearing rays. Slowly, the voluminous water soaked into the ground. Curious to how the humans fared, Ochako ventured down to the village-

and was greeted with nothing short of a tragedy.

The swelling of the river had ravaged the small settlement. It still exceeded its banks, pouring over the porches of the low-lying houses. Furniture and trinkets and clothes that had once carried sentiment floated in the current, occasionally catching on the spindly fingers of broken branches and even wholly uprooted trees. The wooden walkways were now roads for the river trout, and the townsfolk meandered between the flood buildings in their boats. A few of the vessels had not been so lucky. They were either sunk into the depths of the river or had crashed into the houses. The air was rank with depression and anxiety. The fireworks workshop had collapsed, with the roof sticking up out of the water at an odd angle and the cloth door floating on the surface. Ochako couldn't find the little accessory stall at all.

Ochako fled back up the hill, unable to bear the sadness any longer. She collapsed at the base of her tree and wept. Clasping her hands together so hard that her knuckles glared white, she prayed, and prayed, and _prayed_. She prayed for Momo and her fisherman husband, for Kyoka and Mina, for the grumpy fireworks shop owner and Eijirou and the friendly accessory shop owner- and for _Katsuki_ , she prayed aloud until her throat was raw and she was coughing up blood. Yet she kept praying, until finally, darkness took her, and she melted into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, he was sitting up against the plum tree with her head in his lap. She would have jumped up and hugged him if his expression had not been so miserable. His fingers slowly teased through her locks of chestnut hair. He had been doing so a while, as evidenced by the channels parting the swathes of her locks. Frowning, she raised a hand to brush her fingertips over his chin.

"Katsuki, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer her immediately. When he did, he cast his vermilion eyes into the distance, as if he could not bear to look at her. Finally, he whispered, "You're going to _die_ , Ochako."

She sat up, her frown deepening. Katsuki clicked his tongue at her expression of confusion and looked down at his lap.

"What? I don't understand."

"The locals say the flood was the wrath of the river god. Apparently, they think that revering the plum tree has angered him, and he flooded the town in vengeance. They-" he choked on his words. He pushed his fist into his mouth as tears blossomed in his eyes. " _They're going to cut the plum tree down_." Ochako paled as frightening realization dawned upon her. Ochako was born of the plum tree and its associated prayers. If they removed the plum tree and ceased to pray, Ochako would disappear. Terrified, she jumped forward to cling to Katsuki, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Katsuki, I don't want to die!" she wailed in dismay. Her heart hammered in her throat, and a tremor gripped her body. Katsuki threw his arms around her in a smothering embrace, burying his face into her hair as he hiccupped with a broken sob. She snuggled into him, surrounding herself in his warmth and gunpowder scent, as if it could shield her from her coming death. It could not, however; she could hear the mob approaching already, shouts and curses floating on the early morning air.

"I won't _let_ them," he snarled and hugged her tighter. Ochako whimpered, but as much as she would admire him for defending her honor, she could not allow it.

"No, Katsuki! If you interfere, they'll murder you," she insisted, prying herself away from him. She sucked in a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, slowly bringing herself down from the fearful mania. He stared at her incredulously.

"Ochako, if we do nothing, they'll murder _you_!"

The shouts and curses grew louder. Birds took to the air, startled by the aggressive ascent of the river folk. Time was running out.

"I have an idea," Ochako said and hopped to her feet. She clambered into the boughs of her plum tree to pluck the last remaining fruit of the season from its branches. Falling back to the flats of her feet, she tore away the golden flesh to reveal the pit within. She thrust it out to Katsuki, and he took it with startled hands. "This seed contains the essence of my birth tree," she told him firmly. "Take it far from here and plant it. As long as my tree can bloom once more, and you continue to believe in me, I shall _not_ cease to exist." She smiled painfully as his expression contorted in pain. His quivering hand brushed over her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

"Ochako, _no_ ," he begged. Her heart shattered as his voice cracked with agony. The tears flowed down her cheeks like the accursed rain, burning as it trailed over her skin. "I _can't_ watch them do this."

"You must, and you will," she told him gently. She grabbed his hand and turned her head to press a long kiss into his calloused palm. "I _will_ see you again," she vowed, looking at him with heated brown eyes. He choked out another sob again, then grabbed her wrist to yank her forward. Her body fell upon his, and their lips crashed together in a tumultuous, passionate, heartbroken kiss. Katsuki kissed her right up until the moment the mob stormed into the clearing before she vanished before his eyes. The angry mob shoved him to the side despite his fragmented pleas, and he crashed to the ground. He watched, wide-eyed and clutching the little seed pod to his chest, as they swung the axe into the skinny trunk of the plum tree. It only took the one swing to bore deep into the heart of its wood, and with a noise not unlike an agonized scream, the tree fell backward and crashed into the earth. The leaves quivered with dying breaths, and sap poured like blood from the wound.

The rain began to pour though not a cloud was in the sky. It was as if the world was lamenting the loss of its purest soul.

_The Coming of the Legend_

Katsuki Bakugo sailed away from the riverside town that very afternoon. He bought a little clay pot and took some soil from the hill to plant the plum tree seed, and he waited. The boat meandered along the river to destination after destination, festival after festival, but the seed did not take root. Yet he _waited_ , optimistic that his love would return. He slept with the little pot of dirt tucked against his chest, and sometimes, he imagined it was Ochako's heartbeat and not his own pulsing through the clay and earth. Three months went by, but nothing ever sprouted from the seed. Hope was all he had, and he clung to it like a lifeline. His boss once ridiculed him for obsessing over the empty pot and had attempted to toss it into the river, and Katsuki broke the man's nose and an arm struggling to get it back.

The old fogey finally fired him for that stunt.

Katsuki returned home to his lofty home on the outskirts of Edo. His mother had made her fortune designing kimonos. Even the waiting ladies to the wealthiest samurai wore her designs, or so it was said. Ginkgo trees and cherry blossoms and pines towered above the ornate building, but their sprawling garden did not possess a plum tree. Katsuki found a patch of earth about the size of the hilltop and planted the seed, which had not rotted even after three months in the small pot of soil. He took up a profession cooking and made more money than he ever had crafting fireworks. Every night when he returned home, arms aching and smelling of various spices and meats, he would go to the garden and look for a sprout.

He'd kneel at the spot and pray until his throat bled raw, and blisters burst on his clasped hands, and he would water the earth with his tears.

The servants began to whisper that he had gone mad over the drowning of his lover in the riverside town. His mother and father looked on in concern but allowed Katsuki his grieving. Katsuki had always been a hothead, but his temper shortened a drastic amount; he would scrap with strangers in the streets if they so much as looked at him the wrong way. He punched holes in the walls and kicked over furniture at the slightest provocation. He'd grab his clothes and tear them to shreds, simply because his world was falling apart around him, and he didn't know how to _deal_ with it.

His muscles wasted, for he had not the care to tend them. Weight sloughed from his frame, as food or drink tasted like ash in his mouth. His body took to a persistent cold, but no doctor could mend him, for his illness was of the heart. The whole world seemed dark, for his sun had been cruelly snuffed out of existence.

Six months to the day after the felling of the plum tree, he fell to his knees before the buried plum tree seed and beseeched the glittering night sky. He screamed, and he roared, and he yelled, and he cried, begging the gods to take mercy on a virtuous plum tree spirit who graced the world with love and light. The servants looked on in awed horror as he begged the heavens for recompense until dawn began to peek over the horizon, and then darkness took him.

When he awoke, it was beneath the shade of a fully-grown plum tree. His head was cushioned by something soft and plush, and someone was stroking his ash-blond hair with loving fingers. His vision gradually cleared to reveal a smiling brunette, with round cheeks and a blissful smile and eyes like the earth.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Katsuki."

As generations came and went, the landscape of Japan changed, and so did the illustrious manor of the Bakugo family- yet the plum tree remained, a monument to an era long lost. The household had been torn down and rebuilt many times over, remodeled by inheritors of the family's fortune.

Yet, they never touched the plum tree. That's because everyone knew the legend of the Lovers' Plum- the saga of a love so powerful that no force on this earth could break it. Rumor says that the plum tree spirit still inhabits the tree and grants wishes of romance to those who reach her ears, and that on nights where fireworks fill the sky, one can see her and her human beloved seated beneath its boughs, holding hands and staring into one another's eyes.


	37. Where am I?

Category: Angst

Characters: Tomoko Shiretoko

An abyss— the inky blackness enveloped Tomoko like a thick blanket, but she did not feel comforted by its embrace. It smothered her, wrapping her in an icy cold that seeped deep into her bones and made every ragged breath she drew excruciating labor. Her limbs felt as if they were weighted with lead, suspending her in the endless space and giving her no strength to move. Her lidded gold eyes were slits as she peered into the gloom; even they felt weighted, chained down to the bottom of her void-like prison beneath the shifting black fog. 

Her throat bobbed as she struggled to speak, yet she could form no words. Even if she could, she could not think of what to say. Like her disorienting surroundings, her mind was shrouded in mist too. Articulation and thought were faraway concepts to her now, save for one.

_Where am I?_

Tomoko was not sure how long she was there, suspended like a broken marionette in the endless black. _Broken_ , because in the ebb and flow of bewilderment the searing pain in her body would rise like a rocky cleft in the receding tide. She could not pinpoint whether it was a single wound that pained her so, or if every single one of her bones had been crushed, filling her to the brim with agony. 

Either way, she despaired each time she became lucid enough to feel the burning ache filling her up. She could do nothing to alleviate it— not scream into the void, not sob in misery, not even clench her teeth. In silence, in stillness, in solitude, _she suffered_. 

Again, she could only think as her tears floated in the chasm around her, _Where am I?_

Time was endless, or may it wasn’t long at all, only stretched by the endless blackness shrouding her in its cold veil. Eventually, light speared through the blackness to carve a blazing white path. Tomoko both relished its coming and abhorred it; though part of her welcomed the light— the change— part of her had grown accustomed to her black home in twisted sleepy contentment. 

The light snaked toward Tomoko, chasing away the darkness on either side to extend like a road before her. A groan finally rumbled from her weak lungs as her limbs twitched to life. The world of black swirled around her, and Tomoko had the strangest sense that she was ascending. Lying flat on her back with her arms splayed to either side, she rose like a ghost from the grave to grave the world of light once more. 

And again, she thought, _Where am I?_

A grimy white-tiled ceiling greeted her weary eyes when she finally had the strength to open them. Her mind was in dissonance registering it because surely no hospital would allow such deplorable conditions. Another thing that unsettled her was the silence; there was no hushed discussions of doctors and nurses, nor regular beeping of monitoring machines, or even the hum of an air conditioning unit. Only quiet reverberated in the gloom, deafening her with its overwhelming presence. 

At first, Tomoko’s body was numb from lack of use, but the pins and needles soon faded as her brain repeatedly fired neuronal signals to move. As she went to lift her arms, they stopped short a few inches above the bed she laid on, and the clinking of metal filled the air. 

_Metal?_ She thought groggily, rolling her head to observe the thing obstructing her movement. It took her a few moments to recognize the shiny handcuffs securing her to the hospital bed. 

Tomoko’s heart jumped into her throat when her lagging brain cells finally processed her dire situation. Squeaking in alarm, Tomoko bangs her shackled hands against the railings, filling the once-silent room with frantic jingling. Her panic-stricken mind could still realize that this place was no hospital. 

Memories came rushing back like a flood, joining the tidal wave of fear drowning Tomoko. A dark night, dense woods, a villainous raid, and a flash of steel in the dark— the fragmented memories painted a morbid picture, a portrait of her own harrowing kidnapping. As she jiggled the handcuffs violently, part of her frantically wondered if the children and her teammates were okay, while the more rational part of her wondered if _she_ was going to be okay. 

“Now, now. There’s no need for all that noise, Ragdoll, dear.” 

The clanking ceased as Tomoko froze. The voice had emanated from the gloom, sounding over her agitated jangling with carefully controlled malice. A squat man wearing a white coat plodded out of the darkness to give Tomoko an eerie smile. She didn’t like it; he eyed her like a specimen to dissect, a machine to disassemble, and it sickened her to her core. 

As her breaths hitched into hyperventilation, Tomoko began flinging her hands upward again to the point that the cold metal of the handcuffs bit deeply into her wrist. 

“Tsk. You are a professional hero. Have some composure, young lady,” the creepy scientist sniffed in disdain. 

_Composure_? Tomoko couldn’t even dream of having composure at that moment. The time for composure had long since passed; her only guiding force was self-preservation, frantic sparks of her nervous system driving her body into fight-or-flight mode. Tomoko would one day wonder if that made her any less of a hero, but in the end, she was only human— a frail, pitiful little human just a slave to her mind as the rest of them. 

Tomoko froze again as a massive hand clamped down on her throat. She wheezed as it pushed down on her windpipe, constricting the airflow to just a few ragged puffs. Her yellow irises drifted in a vast sea of white as she stared wildly at the scientist man, whose evil smirk widened to stretch his pudgy face. 

It was not _his_ hand wrapped around her throat, however. 

Her assailant stood at the head of the bed behind her, thick muscular arm reaching around to hold her petite body still. She whimpered pathetically as they leaned over, his bulk casting a shadow over her face. The whimper morphed into a frightened, choked scream as his ghastly face came into view; the crown of his head was a patchwork of ugly scar tissue all the way down past his eyes, so his Cheshire-cat smirk floated underneath a scarred dome of pale flesh. It was an absolutely abhorrent sight, and Tomoko felt a fierce shiver grip her bones. 

The man chuckled as she quaked in the bed, filling the air with faint jingling again. 

“What a fine Quirk you have. I’ll be making excellent use of it.” 

A cold flush shot through Tomoko’s arteries. _My Quirk? Use? What? What is he talking about?_ Though Tomoko’s confusion was evident in her impossibly wide eyes, the man neglected to answer her. That vile snicker resounded in her ears, vibrating her bones and twisting her belly with dread. 

The man squeezed her carotids briefly, relishing her shocked squeak and the way her eyes dilated as her brain was starved as oxygen. An agonizing few seconds passed, but he released his grip before she could suffer any hypoxic damage. As his calloused hand migrated over her face, Tomoko coughed and sobbed. Of the many things that her mind could land on, it once again rang with that quintessential question. 

_Where am I?_

His hand closed over her face. Tomoko wriggled as he smothered her mouth and nose, once again making her lungs heave in an effort to suck in air. His cruel chortling filled her head until it was the only thing she could focus on, resounding like a death knell chiming in the deep of night. His grip tightening, fingers digging into her skin— and then her body began to feel _strange_. 

It felt like electricity humming just under the surface, just a numb tingle at first. It gradually rose in intensity until it seared like liquid lightning across her face. The sensation drew an agonized scream from her body, and her back arched up of the table as her arms and legs writhed. The clanking of her restraints joined the symphony of his laughs, which had risen in pitch and volume to full-blown evil cackles. 

Suddenly, the electricity began to recede. No— that wasn’t it. It felt like it was being _drawn_ out, absorbed through his fingers. The abnormal feeling began to spread from her head down to the rest of her body. Dread pooled in Tomoko’s belly as it felt like her very _soul_ was being sucked out. 

_No, stop, please,_ she tried to plead, but it came out only as garbled gargles against his palm. As the strange draining sensation hummed in her body, her struggles diminished bit by bit until she felt slack against the table. Her eyelids began to droop as drowsiness washed over her. Perhaps this strange villain _had_ taken her soul, and here she was, on the cusp of a sad and lonely death. Tears brimmed in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she grappled with her mortality.

_Where am I? How will they know where I am? Please… I don’t want to die alone in this place…!_

The darkness began to creep back into her vision, beginning as small trickles and rapidly rising into a flooding wave. Tomoko had the sensation of becoming weightless, floating down, down, down into the depths of the dark. As her eyes drowsily drifted shut, she embraced the darkness as it wrapped around her in a cool blanket, delivering her into a dreamless and painless sleep… 

~~~~~~~~~~

Heaven— the cloudy white enveloped Tomoko like a thick blanket, and she felt comfort in its warmth. She hummed as she breathed in deeply and easily; fresh, cool air flooded her lungs with the unlabored breaths. She felt weightless and free, floating unrestrictedly in the lovely expanse of fluff. Her eyes slowly opened, and the golden pools were greeted with neat white tiles framing fluorescent lights. The rhythmic beeping of a machine echoed dully in her ears, accented by the pleasant voices of two women in scrubs by her bedside. 

_Where am I?_

“Ah! She’s rousing. Go get the doctor while I do a vitals assessment, quickly!” the nurse ordered her comrade as Tomoko’s eyes fluttered. Tomoko just barely registered the hasty shuffling of her feet as she exited. The nurse gently brushed Tomoko’s locks of emerald hair from her face with a kindly smile. “Easy, now. You’ve been through quite the ordeal. Just relax. We’ll take good care of you.” 

Tomoko’s mind hung in a fog as the medical professionals fluttered around her, checking her vitals and conversing with one another. She caught snatches of conversation that alarmed her greatly— _All for One_ and _missing Quirk_ and _warehouse_ and _All Might’s fall._ Her frazzled mind toiled to comprehend the snippets of information, but too many pieces were missing from the puzzle. She ended up sitting up in bed with no recollection of being pulled up, drifting in the clouds with no clear way to come down. 

“Ragdoll!” 

Tomoko blinked blearily at the mournful wail that sounded in the doorway. Pixie-Bob came bounded into the room to throw herself at her bedside, snatching up her hand to squeeze it tightly. Tears glimmered in the corners of her eyes. 

“Ragdoll, thank goodness, you’re okay! We were so worried about you!” she sobbed into the white sheets draped over Tomoko’s body. Her pitiful cries pulled Tomoko into lucidity, allowing her to finally appreciate the gravity of her situation. Tiger and Mandalay joined Pixie-Bob at her bedside, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, Tomoko felt relief. 

“You guys…” she moaned as fresh sobs bubbled up in her throat, “where am I?” 

She didn’t really mean it physically. It felt like she was no longer herself, a husk of her former person. She was desperately searching for some semblance of herself, but all she could find within was fear, doubt, and loss. 

Mandalay leaned over to envelop her in a crushing hug. 

“You’re safe, Ragdoll,” she whispered as she nuzzled into Tomoko’s green tresses. “Y-you’re _home_.” Tomoko blinked slowly, and then a shaky smile stretched across her lips as tears dripped from her lashes. 

Home. Yes. Her home, her beloved teammates. 

No matter what, Tomoko could always find herself there. 


	38. The Measure of a Good Hero

Category: Hurt and Comfort

Characters: Shota Aizawa, Izuku Midoriya 

_ Pain _ … Blinding pain pulsed across Shota’s face like red-hot lava as he lay prone on the ground. No, not  _ lay _ ; he was pressed,  _ crushed  _ against the pavement with hot sticky blood flowing out of his mouth and nose to smear across his cheek. The gray-haired young villain’s high-pitched cackles bounced inside his ears, only adding to the skull-splitting pounding in his head. Shota’s vision blurred as his brain withered under the assault, and he lapsed into unconsciousness no matter how much he told himself to hold on, hold on,  _ hold on _ … 

Shota jerked upright in bed with a gasp. The ghost of the searing pain ebbed into a dull ache as the remnants of his shattered eye socket lamented with phantom trauma. It took a few moments for Shota to recognize that he was not at the USJ but safe in his bed in the U.A. dormitory. 

His heaving breaths slowly mellowed, the cold sweat slowly dwindled to coat him in a layer of perspiration, and his constricted pupils slowly dilated as his eyelids drifted over them. With an agonized groan, he drew his hand over his face. 

“ _ Damn... _ ” 

Shota’s muscles felt as if he’d boxed a gorilla. They ached and throbbed terribly, protesting as he flipped the sweat-soaked sheets off himself. The cold air blowing from the air conditioner washed over his body, allowing the sweat to sap even more heat from his system. He rubbed the bare skin of his legs as the coarse black hairs stood to attention, trying to force warmth back into his chilling body. After a few minutes, he slipped off the bed and padded barefoot out of the room towards the dormitory kitchen. 

The moon streamed through the row of floor-to-ceiling glass windows framing the wall of the living room. The bushes lining the building gleamed like polished malachite as the stark contrasts of darkness and light clashed in their leaves. The wind whistled through the boughs of the skinny trees scattered across the courtyard to flicker against the windows like moths flapping at an illuminated dull yellow lightbulb. A peaceful night, for all intents and purposes… 

A peaceful night for everyone but Shota that is. 

Shota rubbed at his aching eye as he used his other hand to rifle blindly through a cabinet. Occasionally, he’d pluck a box from the depths to squint critically at it, using the soft white light to read the labels. After several failed attempts, he finally secured his desired midnight snack- chamomile tea. 

Though Hizashi and Nemuri gave him hell for it, Shota consumed almost as much tea as coffee. He’d taken to natural sleep supplements after melatonin pills had failed to lull him into a decent night’s rest. Their resident tea connoisseur, Momo Yaoyorozu, had enlightened him to more adventurous blends of brewable sleeping droughts, but this night he settled for the classic. 

Shota procured a random mug from the cabinet (Izuku’s, judging from the All Might hero suit patterning) and filled it with tap water before popping it into the microwave. Through baggy, lidded eyes, he watched the colorful cup spin slowly in the appliance, all while swinging the bag of tea lazily around his finger. The seconds counted down one by one, and he focused on the depleting neon figures, lest his nightmare seep back into his mind to haunt his waking life too.

A small squeak made Shota straighten up and squint into the depths of the living room. Through the shroud of darkness cloaking most of the room, Shota caught a glimpse of wild pine-green bedhead and gleaming emerald eyes. 

“Midoriya,” Shota drawled in recognition. He looked back to the rotating mug in the microwave, trying to use it to distract from the humming in his nerves. Though the logical part of Shota knew that the odds of being attacked in a school dormitory in the wee hours of the night were slim to none, adrenaline has still gushed through his bloodstream upon sensing the young boy enter. His tensed fist slowly uncurled as he forced himself to relax, and he watched out of the corners of his eyes as the bashful Izuku shuffled into the room. 

“Up late grading papers, sir?” Izuku asked with a wavery smile as he pulled open a cabinet. He bee-lined for the box of animal crackers on the top shelf, pulling down the red box along with a small plastic bowl. 

“Not exactly,” Shota huffed in amusement. For several moments, the only sounds in the kitchen were the crackling of the plastic bag of animal crackers, the cookie-like snacks thudding against the bottom of the bowl as Izuku poured them, and the consistent humming of the appliance in front of Shota. “What are you doing awake at this hour? It’s well past curfew.” 

Though Shota was mostly joking, Izuku jerked violently in surprise, spilling animal crackers all over the counter. 

“W-wah! I’m sorry, sir, I just-!” Izuku babbled, hastily scooping up the scattered crackers to dump them in the bowl. “I just- I, um…” As he trailed off, his movements slowed until his hand rested on the counter, still clutching several of the snacks. “I… Had a nightmare about the summer camp incident…” 

Shota watched Izuku through half-closed but scrutinizing eyes. Izuku’s fist clenched, cracking the cookies into small pieces as he stared glassily at the bowl of animal crackers as if it were now a foreign object. “I dreamed that… it went a lot worse than it did, and…” Izuku clenched his fists so tight that his scarred knuckles glared white in the gloom. “I couldn’t  _ protect  _ anyone.” 

Even in the sparse lighting, Shota could see the frustrated tears blooming in the corners of Izuku’s eyes. The microwave beeped shrilly in Shota’s ear to herald the boiling of his mug of water. Shota inhaled sharply, then exhaled deeply and turned to busy himself with pulling out the piping-hot cup of water to dunk the bag of chamomile tea into it. As the yellow-gold flavoring diffused through the clear liquid, Shota idly stirred the bag around to speed up the steeping. 

“I know how you feel,” he said after several moments. He kept his back to Izuku, continuously drawing the teabag around the bottom rim of the mug, but he could feel the boy’s widened eyes on him. “That’s one of the scariest feelings… That you can’t protect the people that you care about.” He reached up, ghosting his fingertips over the crescent moon-shaped scar decorating the underside of his eye. 

Shota had grappled with that fear for such a very long time. It never seemed to leave him. As soon as he thought perhaps that he’d been able to move on, to grow strong enough that he didn’t need to be afraid before, reality reared its ugly head to squash him back into the dirt. Sometimes, quite literally. 

“Do you have nightmares too, Mr. Aizawa?” 

Shota smiled wryly, finally glancing over his shoulder to look at Izuku. The boy watched him adamantly; doubt and a need for reassurance swam in his bright green irises. Shota may not be the cuddliest, most fatherly man alive, but he was a teacher. Consolation was something he could  _ attempt  _ to give, at least. 

“Of course I do,” he said, turning so that his back now pressed against the counter. One elbow propped loosely against the tile, while his other bent in the air as he rubbed the nape of his neck. His eye twinged with phantom pain, remembering once more the feeling of his bones shattering against cracking concrete. “Anyone in this line of work who tells you otherwise is a liar.” 

Izuku let out a tiny chuckle, and it seemed like his expression brightened just a bit. Shota smiled as he looked down at his tea. The golden brew had blended through the hot water. He grabbed a bottle of honey and stirred a spoonful of it into the tea. When he sipped it, the sweet flavor of the honey and the muted tone of chamomile spread over his tongue, filling him with a warm sense of calm. 

He turned back to Izuku, holding up the All Might mug and supping casually at his beverage. With a wry smile, he tapped the edge of the cheesy smile adorning the bottom half of the cup. 

“Take All Might, for example. I know for a  _ fact  _ that he has nightmares.” 

Izuku’s face scrunched up in a mix of amusement and disbelief. 

“No way!” the boy laughed and waved a hand dismissively at Shota. “He’s  _ All Might _ !” However, as realization dawned on him, his entertained smile sagged into a sad one. “Though I guess… He has been through a lot, especially recently. I guess there has to be at least one thing that he regrets, and that haunts him…” 

“Of course. Being the Symbol of Peace doesn’t make him perfect.” Shota shrugged. He then smiled when Izuku looked at him with knitted eyebrows. “Midoriya, the measure of a good hero isn’t how few mistakes you make or how few regrets you have.” 

The mug gently clinked as Shota set it down on the counter. He walked over to Izuku to gently clap a hand on his shoulder, and the boy looked up at him with big emerald eyes. “The measure of a good hero is how well you can bear the  _ burden  _ of your mistakes and regrets, and how you can make them  _ right  _ by doing better.” 

Izuku’s forest-green eyes stared intently into Shota’s face for several seconds as he articulated the solemn statement. Slowly, his head dropped until his chin dropped down against his chest. 

“Yeah… I… I think I get it, Mr. Aizawa,” he whispered with a small nod. Shota smiled and patted Izuku on the shoulder, then snagged a few of the animal crackers to pop them into his mouth. As he sauntered off toward his room, swirling the chamomile tea and crunching on the sweet cookies, he shoved a hand in the pocket of his pajama bottoms. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back at Izuku, who had gone back to staring blankly at the bowl of animal crackers. 

“Midoriya, you still have a long way to go,” Shota reminded him with an endeared smile. It was almost cute, how insanely ambitious his class of students was. Cute, but a headache and a handful sometimes when they got too intent on growing up too fast. “Take those feelings you have now, and use them to grow stronger.” 

Clarity flooded Izuku’s dull eyes, returning that determined little gleam that Shota admired so much about the kid. He turned back to Shota with a bright smile. 

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” 

“Great talk. Now, off to bed with you. I don’t want to hear complaints that you’re tired tomorrow.” 

“Of course, sir!” 

Izuku went to scamper off, making Shota chuckle. 

“Midoriya, your animal crackers?” 

Izuku whirled on his socks to see his bowl of crackers still perched on the counter, untouched and forgotten. 

“Oh, right! Th-thank you!” he laughed sheepishly and scurried back to retrieve his midnight snack. Shota watched warmly as he scampered off, munching on the animal crackers and muttering self-motivating blathers under his breath. Shota took a healthy swig of the chamomile tea; it blended with his improved mood to stimulate the drowsiness currently rising in his system. “Goodnight, Mr. Aizawa!” Izuku’s hushed shout floated down the stairs several yards away. Shota snorted and turned to retreat back into the darkness of his bedroom. 

“Sleep well, Midoriya. Pleasant dreams.” 

As Shota collapsed on his bed, the finished mug of chamomile tea resting on his nightstand, he actually felt secure for once that he’d be gifted with pleasant dreams, too. 


	39. Light Up My World

Category: Romantic Fluff

Characters: Fuyumi Todoroki, Keigo Takami

_ Hey, guys! This is the piece I wrote for the Huwumi Mini-Bang. I hope you all enjoy it!  _

The cricket song floated through the black mesh screen of the slightly ajar window like a soothing lullaby. Darkness shrouded the bedroom, only contained by the soft moonlight filtering in through the windows and the bubble of soft yellow light emanating from the desk lamp perched on the wooden structure. The gentle tune and soothing light washed over Fuyumi as she dutifully recorded her lesson plans for the upcoming semester. The new year was approaching fast and there was still so much to do, but the young teacher tried hard not to become overwhelmed.  _ Slow and steady wins the race,  _ she reminded herself with a small smile.  _ Any progress, no matter how small, is still progress! I just have to keep working at it!  _

After a few more clacks of the letters on her keyboard, Fuyumi exhaled deeply and pushed her rolling chair away from her desk. Pursuing progress was all well and good, but breaks were important to maintain maximum efficiency! Fuyumi glanced at the clock hanging on her bedroom wall; she had been at this particular session for three hours. 

“Yep! I think it’s time for a snack,” she mused happily. The chair creaked as she pushed off from it, as if protesting her leaving. With a snicker, Fuyumi assured the furniture that she would return swiftly and to keep her spot warm. As she meandered out of the bedroom, she knitted her eyebrows and smiled wanly. “I’m talking to furniture now? Maybe constructing these lesson plans is frying my brain rather than strengthening it,” she snickered amusedly. 

The baby-blue curtains framing the living room windows fluttered greeting at her as she entered the room. The moonlight puddled over the wooden floor like spilled milk, bathing everything it touched in a silvery-white glow. Everywhere it could not reach, the darkness lurked, gnawing at the edges of the moonlight with sharp and eager teeth. As Fuyumi passed the end table beside the sofa, she slipped the switch to turn on the lamp. The darkness fled to the nooks and crannies as the bulb blossomed with bright yellow light; within those small chasms the blackness waited for the light to fade and its domain to be restored once more. The shadows always sought to take root and snuff out the light; thus, one had to remain vigilant. 

_ It’s eight o’clock and I’m turning into a delirious philosopher,  _ Fuyumi snickered as her mind delved into the dichotomous light-dark relationship. She flipped on the kitchen light as she walked through the entryway, bee-lining for the coffee pot resting on the counter. She removed the glass pot from the machine and swirled it experimentally; the dark brown liquid sloshed against the curved sides. Fuyumi grimaced at the precipitated coffee grains swimming in the bottom. Sighing, the schoolteacher poured the cold, stale coffee down the drain, and started another pot going. The bubbling of the hot water and the robust aroma of the coffee filled the kitchen. 

“Let’s see. Let’s see,” Fuyumi tutted under her breath. “What kind of snacks go well with coffee?” She opened the cabinets and inspected a handful of boxes with a myriad of frowns and thoughtful pouts. After a few minutes of consideration, she settled on a box of sweet ginger cookies. She arranged about eight of them on a platter and set them on the counter beside the coffee pot, which was now half-filled with the bitter liquid. With a small sigh, she leaned against the tile counter and peered out the small window above the sink. 

The moonlight dyed the front yard in silver. A breeze ruffled the grass blades as it rolled over the lawn. The light caught on the ridges of Fuyumi’s car to make it shine with a bright sheen. Fuyumi pouted sadly as she recalled the fact that hers was the only car in the driveway. Natsuo was spending the evening with some of his college friends, Shoto stayed at U.A. during the week, her father had taken to staying in a hotel as he distanced himself from the family, and her mother had not yet been discharged from the mental facility and given clearance to move back in. Fuyumi groaned and leaned down to rest her forehead against her arm.  _ It’s lonely…  _ she lamented. All Fuyumi wanted was some semblance of a family unit, but it was a daunting project indeed. Fuyumi found herself alone in the house more often than she would like. 

“That’s all right. At least I have the house to myself so I can work on my lesson plans,” she smiled placidly. Her attempts to lift her spirits worked only minimally. Groaning again, she stuffed one of the ginger cookies into her mouth, spreading the sugar coating over her lips as she chewed disinterestedly. Not even the sugary goodness and muted tones of ginger could spark joy in her melancholy soul. 

_ I wonder what Hawks is doing.  _ The thought brought a bright pink flush to her cheeks. As the image of the winged hero bloomed in her mind, she began tracing abstract patterns into the smooth tiles counter. Her acquaintanceship-slash-questionable-friendship- _ slash _ -slight-courtship with the suave and flirtatious bird-man had begun with a happenstance run-in at the bubble tea shop near the school at which Fuyumi taught. They had struck up a conversation over a pair of fruity teas and from there, their friendship had blossomed. Hawks and Fuyumi soon found themselves to be regular patrons of the small café; indeed, a good portion of Fuyumi’s modest paycheck was now devoted to an assortment of the fun and fresh drinks. Additionally, a good portion of her spare thoughts were reserved for the amiable and handsome pro-hero… 

_ He’s probably on patrol,  _ she thought with a small frown as she envisioned her cell phone, which rested beside her laptop in the other room. Their relationship had evolved to frequent text and phone calls. She momentarily considered retrieving her phone to message him, but the last thing she wanted to do was bother the busy man.  _ No… He probably doesn’t have time for me,  _ she thought with a small sigh. 

She straightened up as the coffee brewer beeped shrilly to alert her that the liquid was finished. Fuyumi wasted no time in pouring herself a healthy amount of the brew, throwing in a generous amount of creamer and a dash of sugar. She sipped at the honey-brown liquid and hummed contentedly at the delectable bittersweet flavor that spread over her tongue. Warmth flooded through her body as she sampled the hot brew, and she admittedly felt a little bit better. Nibbling on another one of the ginger cookies, she chuckled to herself. 

“Can’t be lonely when I have coffee…” The laughter died in her throat, and she considered texting Hawks again.  _ What if he’s  _ **_not_ ** _ busy…?  _ She couldn’t help but wonder. 

She straightened up when the empty house suddenly resounded with the high-pitched chime of the doorbell. She wondered for a moment if she had simply misheard, but the tone echoed through the lonesome halls once more, twice, three times. The third and final ring stirred her from her surprised stupor. Still clutching the cup of coffee and a ginger cookie, she hurried to the front door. “Coming! I’m coming!” she shouted as she bustled along the hall. She squealed when her socks slipped over the polished wood and she stumbled. “Shit! Shit! Ow!” she hissed as the piping-hot coffee splashed over her forearm. She set the cup and the half-eaten cookie on a nearby armoire, hissing at the pain. She licked feverishly at her burning wrist to lap it up before her skin melted away and continued onward to the front door. The white hairs on her forearm still clumped together with the dark brew as she collided with the door. “Hold on just a second!” she cried to the shadowy figure visible beyond the marbled windows lining the doorframe. She fumbled a few seconds with the lock, finally managing to flip it to the unlocked position. “Hello, what can I do for… you…” 

The words died in her throat as she got a good look with the person slouching on the stoop. 

“Hey, uh… Can I come in?” Hawks laughed nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t dripping blood all over her floral-patterned welcome mat. Fuyumi’s mouth hung open wide enough for the gnats to flutter in as she gawked at the disheveled hero. His normally messy blonde hair was even more crimped and disarrayed, sticking up at off angles. Rips and tears littered the fabric of his hero suit, and Fuyumi was alarmed to see crimson blood leaking from lacerations within the shredded material. His crimson wings, which normally towered behind him in magnificent splendor, were mere tufts of downy feathers clinging to small, bony protrusions jutting out of his shoulder blades. Even the snarky grin that made Fuyumi’s heart flutter in her chest drooped weakly. “Please?” he pleaded in a strained voice, stumbling forward to lean against the threshold as his knees buckled. 

“O-Oh my! Hawks! Yes, yes, come inside!” she cried when she finally found her words. He flashed her a weary smile while she hastily stepped out of the threshold so he could enter the house. He muttered curses as he stumbled over the threshold, stumbling into the end table beside her door and knocking off the decorative vase. Fuyumi tried not to flinch as the ceramic item shattered into large pieces on the floor. As Hawks began to mumbled apologies, she waved her arms dismissively and kicked the pieces aside. “No, no, it’s okay. I bought it on sale at a flea market! Only worth pennies!” she sputtered as she ushered him forward into the kitchen.  _ I liked that vase,  _ she lamented with one last glance at the destroyed decoration before she hurried after Hawks. 

Hawks released an agonized groan as he half-sat, half-slid into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Fuyumi whimpered as red blood blotted the white-striped green cushions underneath the hero. She could care less about the furniture, of course; she was extraordinarily concerned at the amount of blood Hawks lost prior to his arrival. The man slumped over the table, staring at her through half-lidded eyes. 

“You look lovely tonight, Fuyumi,” he joked. Toil and pain tainted his usually light-hearted tone. The agonized tinge to his tone shattered the young woman’s sensitive heart. She scurried to the kitchen sink to dampen a rag, casting fervid glances his way as she wrung it out. She snatched the first-aid kit from underneath the skin and rushed to his side, using the rag to wipe away some blood that had pooled on the table from a laceration on his shoulder. She ignored his compliment. 

“Hawks, what happened to you?” she sighed as she flipped open the plastic case to rifle through bandages and antibiotic creams. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he watched her through half-closed golden eyes. 

“Oh, you know… Some ruffians thought they could spring on me in an alley and get clout for taking down the number-two hero.” 

“ _ How many _ ruffians? And take off your jacket and shirt,” she ordered. 

“Twenty, at least.” Hawks purred loudly, and the noise made Fuyumi momentarily consider the romantic implications of the situation occurring in the kitchen. She tried desperately to ignore the red color rising to her cheeks as Hawks reclined in the chair and shrugged out of the cream-colored fur-lined jacket to expose his chiseled arms. A cotton ball doused in antiseptic fell from her fingertips as she gawked shamelessly at the rugged contours shaping his upper limb. Hawks smirked when he caught her staring. “Oh? Like what you see, Fuyumi dear?” She blinked rapidly as he blatantly accused her. 

“You mistake me, Hawks,” she huffed, her tone disagreeing with the raging blush spreading down her neck. “I was looking at your wounds.” The golden-haired man frowned down at the crisscrossing cuts littering his muscular arms. 

“Oh. Sure,” he mused, clearly not believing her but not in the mood for extended teasing. Fuyumi retrieved her medicine-doused cotton ball as he, with great difficulty, began peeling his form-fitted black-and-yellow patterned shirt from his body. Fuyumi watched with concern as the sheen of sweat appeared on his body with just the small action. As she was arranging the items she would need to cater to Hawks’ wounds, she heard him grunt in pain. “Fuyumi… Help…” he squeaked. She glanced back at him to find his elbows caught in the tight material, causing it to catch over his head. As he squirmed, blood oozed from the multiple deep cuts scattered over his abdomen. He whimpered in pain, and a golden eye gleamed at her from within the dark confines of a sleeve hole. 

“Oh, Hawks,” she laughed lightly and scooched her chair over so she could help him out of the shirt. She nudged her fingers underneath the form-fitted shirt to tug it away from his biceps. As she inched it up the contours of his muscular arms, he twinged and flinched in pain. “Sorry,” she apologized softly. Finally, she was able to pull the light material over his head. As it bunched up around his neck, he shook out his tousled hair and smiled painfully at her. 

“Thanks,” he said as she pulled his shirt the rest of the way down his arms. She threw it aside with the intention to wash it for him later, but her mind was too occupied with the myriad of wounds decorating Hawks’ person. Her eyes narrowed sadly as she counted them, but after about twenty or so of the nicks, she was too heartbroken to continue doing so. Hawks’ smile grew sadder. “Hey, pretty dove,” he laughed lightly. He always called her that when he either wanted to flirt or divert her attention from something serious. “There’s no need to look like that. I’m fine!” He threw up his arms emphatically, but as a pretty serious gash in his left ribs stretched, an agonized groan-slash-scream gurgled in his throat. “M-maybe not,” he admitted in a small, pained voice. “One of the goons had a blade Quirk… Roughed me up real good.” 

“How on Earth could you let a handful of thugs do this to you?” Fuyumi whispered sadly as she began dabbing one of the small wounds with the cotton ball. He flinched at the bitter sting of the alcohol in the liquid. Hawks chuckled self-loathingly again and reclined against the wooden back of the chair, watching Fuyumi work through lidded eyes. 

“Well… I’ll admit that I was a bit off my game. I had my guard down.” 

“You? With your guard down?” Fuyumi scoffed and peeked up at him through her white eyelashes. His roguish smile carried only half the playfulness as usual, which made Fuyumi sad. The edges of Hawks’ smile fell, indicating that her feelings were written all over her face. He rolled his shoulders awkwardly and admitted, “I may have been fantasizing about a certain school teacher who I hadn’t seen in a while.” 

“H-Hawks,” she stammered bashfully. The twinkle returned to his honey-gold eyes, if only for a moment. She swallowed thickly, trying to limit the redness creeping into her face, and dabbed a few more times at the small nick on his forearm before then securing an adhesive bandage over it. A throaty chuckle rumbled in Hawks’ chest. 

“Yeah. I mean, if I’m being honest, this is a small price to pay for dreamin’ of a beautiful woman.” Fuyumi puffed out her cheeks and pressed excessively hard on the next small cut, making him yelp and wriggle about in the chair. “Ouch… I deserved that.” 

“You most certainly did!” Fuyumi huffed and slapped a bandage over the small wound. She tried not to feel too guilty for the way he winced at her harsh touch. Her hand fell against the meat of his bicep and gave it a gentle squeeze as she stared with watery eyes at the many, many wounds she had yet to attend to. “Hawks… You can’t just… show up like this, all beat-up and bloody and… expect me to just- to just…!” With a miserable whine, she buried her face into her hands to begin weeping petulantly. 

“Fuyumi,” Hawks sighed. She could feel the air shift around her face as Hawks’ hands fluttered around her two-toned hair, but refused to settle. After some minutes of consideration, he finally rested one large hand on her shaking shoulder, and another against the side of her head, threading his fingers into her fluffy hair. “Fuyumi, I’m sorry. I just… This is the first place I thought of,” he admitted in a tiny voice. Something about the deep regret smothering his voice made her attempt to swallow the thick lump in her throat and peer through her fingers at him. His golden eyes were cast down at his lap, and his frown cut through Fuyumi’s heart like the sharpest sword. “I knew you’d take care of me, Fuyumi.” She bit down on her bottom lip as his thumb swept lightly over her cheekbone to catch the few tears that dripped down as she blinked. Fuyumi sniffed and inhaled deeply to gather her emotions. 

“Of course I will,” she huffed determinedly and returned to tending his wounds. She traced her way up his arms before settling on the wounds on his abdomen, which were arguably worse. Hawks hissed as she poked around the laceration underneath his left arm, which was several inches deep into the sinew and muscle tissue. “This wound really needs stitches.”

“Do I need to go to the hospital?” the hero asked. The tone of his voice indicated he was not thrilled with the prospect. Fuyumi frowned as she stretched the torn skin around for a few seconds. 

“No… I think I can manage,” she said and retrieved a needle and some stitching twine from the first-aid kid. Natsuo and... Touya, when he was here, had a habit of getting all scratched up when they were little. I learned how to stitch wounds pretty young,” she explained with a strained laugh. Hawks gave her an amused look as she sanitized the needle and then threaded the twine through the needle eye. 

“Your childhood sounds like a party.” 

“That’s not the word I would use for it, but I suppose,” she said. “This’ll hurt,” she warned as she doused the rag in rubbing alcohol. Hawks smiled as if it were nothing, but when she wiped at the gash with the rag, he yowled and kicked his foot against the floor at the rate of a startled rabbit. Profanities and obscenities rich enough to give a grandmother a heart attack poured from his mouth, making Fuyumi flush the color of a tomato. While he was distracted by the stinging, she punched the needle through his flesh and quickly began threading the skin together. She was able to stitch the wound half-way shut before he took notice of her ministrations. 

“I’d like to talk to your superior about your bedside manner,” Hawks grunted, wincing as she pushed the needle through his skin again. Fuyumi rolled her eyes and continued her work with no modification. 

“I’d like to talk to  _ your  _ superiors about your recklessness,” she countered. Hawks snickered again and watched with a small smile as she finished stitching the wound. She ran her fingertips over the black interwoven material, frowning at the clear fluid oozing from between the fibers. At the very least, that meant his body had begun the healing process. 

“I’ll definitely pass on the memo,” Hawks laughed good-naturedly in response. Fuyumi studied the remainder of his wounds and concluded that no other lacerations would require stitches, so she set aside the needle and twine and retrieved her cotton ball. The rest of the wounds littered the planes of his abdominals. At her current angle, it was a bit awkward to tend to them. She coughed politely and gave him an expectant look, and for a second, he only stared blankly. “What?  _ Oh _ ,” he realized when she motioned for him to move the chair. The feet scraped harshly against the tile floor as he did so. With an awkward cough, he spread his legs wide so that Fuyumi could scooch her chair in between them and have full access to the planes of his abs. As his thigh shifted and brushed against the outside of hers, she became aware of the innate intimacy of their position and slightly blushed. 

“Um… Just relax,” she murmured, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand rather than the rising urge to scratch her fingernails down his washboard abs to see if they were as defined as they looked. Hawks slouched back against the back of the chair and hung his arms down by his sides. Swallowing the thick lump of trepidation lodged in her throat, she leaned over and began dabbing at the long cuts criss-crossing his torso. She was very much aware of Hawks’ smoldering gaze on the top of her head as she carefully cleaned the latticework of lacerations. After a while, her hand stilled, and she just gazed sadly at his bandage-covered body. “ _ Hawks _ ,” she sniffed sorrowfully. 

“Hey,” he tutted comfortingly. When his scraped hand cupped the soft skin of her cheek, she leaned into his touch, craving the warmth blooming over her skin. “Don’t cry, my pretty dove.” A heat rose to Fuyumi’s face. The nickname was new, but he had never prefaced it with “my” before. The possessive connotation of his words sent her heart fluttering in her chest like a fledgling bird. His thumb continued to caress her cheek in feather-light touches that brought a smile to her face even despite her morose state. It only lasted a few seconds. 

“Hawks, I-” 

“Enough of that.” The hard edge of his voice made her look up in shock, thinking he was angry at her. His sweet smile swayed her concerns. “Keigo. My name is  _ Keigo _ .” Fuyumi blushed darker; it was a great honor, to be trusted with the pro hero’s true identity, and she wasn’t quite sure that she was worthy of the privilege. Apparently this misforgiving showed on her face, because Keigo chuckled and poked the tip of her nose. “What? I’m shirtless in your kitchen in the middle of the night; the least I can do is let you call me by my actual name.” 

“You have a point,” she chuckled weakly. Her laughter seemed to reassure him, for his smile widened. She beamed adoringly at the hero as he cupped her face in both his hands, simply holding her there so he could admire her face. 

“Such a pretty dove,” he murmured wondrously. “How did I ever get so lucky as to stumble onto you?” Fuyumi flushed red and squirmed a little in his gentle grip. 

“Haw- I-I mean, Keigo, you make it sound like we’re…” she trailed off, the mere implication making her blush darker. Keigo’s eyebrows wiggled playfully behind his cracked gold visor. 

“We’re…  _ what _ ?” he challenged playfully. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth with an embarrassed whine.  _ I can’t say it! He’ll laugh at me! It’s so ridiculous.  _ “ _ Surely _ , Fuyumi,” he purred as he leaned towards her face. She licked her lips nervously as his warm breath ghosted over her fiery red face, “you  _ can’t  _ be implying that my words allude to some measure of affection…  _ can  _ you?” Fuyumi’s eyes rolled in her head as she tried to focus on any mundane item besides Hawks’ devilishly gorgeous face and that enticing smirk. She stammered a half-hearted refusal. “Well, you wouldn’t be wrong,” he laughed suddenly. 

Fuyumi gasped and finally looked at him, a thousand emotions passing through her mind at once. Her throat bobbed as she struggled to form words, but no sounds formed in her throat, because Hawks’ smoldering gaze electrified every nerve in her body. As he trailed the tip of his index finger down her jawline, he cooed adoringly again. “So beautiful. Too beautiful for the likes of me,” he sighed with no small degree of self-loathing. As his hand fell away from her face, she snatched it up with both of her hands and she swallowed firmly. 

“Don’t say things like that.” 

“I’m not the saint you think I am,” he laughed warningly. Fuyumi pushed closer until the edge of her chair bumped the edge of his, and she was basically leaning over his lap. 

“You’re a saint to  _ me _ .” Her eyelashes fluttered as fresh tears flooded her eyes again. “Keigo, I… There’s so much in my life that is dark and confusing, but you… You’re the only constant. I can always look to you and smile because… you just light up my whole world,” she sniffled despondently. She bowed her head as she cried, dripping tears down onto his pants and the wooden chair. “Don’t say things like that, things like you’re going to leave me behind…” 

“No,” he said instantly. Warmth enveloped Fuyumi as he wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his middle, splaying her fingers over the muscle of his shoulder blades as she hugged him like he would disappear if she let go. Her body moved backward as he heaved a massive sigh, then forward as he released it. “No,” he repeated softly and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I could never leave you behind, my pretty dove. You light up my world too.” 

Blinking tears away, Fuyumi craned her head back to peer up at him. Hawks smiled tenderly and swept his fingers over her cheek again to catch the streaming tears. “So please don’t cry, Fuyumi. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Hawks,” she breathed with an agonized sound. A feeling was rising up in her, one so strong it made her chest grow tight and her breaths labored. She was smothered by the emotion, the  _ love  _ she felt for this man. It was a love unlike she had ever felt- a love so strong it  _ hurt _ . He tutted quietly at her as he ran his hands up her back, ruffling the thin fabric of her tee-shirt and whispering once more for her not to cry. She barely registered his hands traveling the curves of her body until they hooked under her thighs. He tugged them forward, and Fuyumi complied to his silent request, crawling up onto his lap to straddle him. He groaned lowly at the weight on his battered body, but ostensibly secured his arm around her hips to pull her body flush against his. His other arm brought his hand to her face again to sweep a swathe of her two-colored hair away from her face. 

“ _ Gorgeous _ ,” he breathed. The sheer amount of reverence in his voice made Fuyumi blush and fidget. “Why are you embarrassed?” he chuckled and swept her bangs from her eyes. “I’m just telling the truth.” He laughed spiritedly as she continued to fidget and mumble in mortification. “Hey. Fuyumi.” When she looked up at him, pink-faced and perturbed, he wiggled his blond eyebrows at her. 

Then, he dove forward to capture her lips in a swelteringly passionate kiss. Fuyumi sharply inhaled through her nose at the shocking action, but made no move to retreat; before she even realized it, her eyes drifted shut and she melted into the kiss and him. A pleased hum vibrated in her chest as her senses came alive. HIs mouth pliantly moved against hers, slowly teasing her lips open so he could carefully slip his tongue into her mouth. Fuyumi did not react disgustedly, he took that as a positive sign and fervently swirling his tongue with hers, drawing a small moan from the woman. His hands roamed the paths of her curves, occasionally stopping to lightly squeeze the soft flesh. Every touch sent electric sparks scattering over her skin, and within minutes Fuyumi felt like she was short-circuiting and sparking like an exposed, frayed wire. 

It was  _ exhilarating _ . 

A string of saliva stretched between them as Hawks pulled away from her, then snapped when Hawks licked his lips. Their breath puffed in the small space as they panted heavily with mild exertion and lust. Hawks was still staring at her slightly bruised lips, as if he was debating sweeping her into a kiss again. After a few seconds, his heated gaze slowly trailed upwards until his golden eyes bored into hers. Fuyumi chuckled lightly when his eyelids suddenly drooped and he stifled a yawn with his fist. 

“You can stay here tonight and sleep in Natsuo’s bed,” she smiled and straightened up. Hawks shot her a pouty look. 

“Aw? Not yours?” 

“No!” she laughed and slipped off his lap. She gathered up the trash from the table and tossed it into the trash bin, then returned the first aid kit to its proper place. As she came up from squatting beside the cabinet underneath the sink, she spied the plate of ginger cookies and the half-filled coffee pot. “I have to finish my lesson plans. The light will keep you awake.” She picked up one of the cookies and nibbled at it. She heard the chair squeak as Hawks pushed himself to his feet. His staggering footsteps approached, and she rolled her eyes when he slumped over her back. He nosed at her cheek with a smirk before he bit off the other end of the ginger cookie. She regarded him dourly as his chewing motions rained sugary crumbs down on her shoulder. 

“You can finish those tomorrow,” he chided persuasively and leaned down to pepper light, chase kisses along the column of her neck. Fuyumi shuddered at how nice it felt and extended her neck for him without even realizing it. He smirked and purred deeply against her carotid, making her gulp. “Please? Won’t you reconsider?” 

“What are you implying, Keigo?” she challenged with false annoyance. Hawks purred against and traced the path of her artery up to her jaw with the tip of his nose. 

“Just some measure of affection,” he grinned and nipped at her temporomandibular joint. Fuyumi squeaked as liquid fire jolted up her spine and her knees immediately melted to jelly. She clutched at the kitchen counter as it became significantly more difficult to stand upright, and Hawks’ thick arm wound around her waist while he laughed triumphantly. 

“You’re a scoundrel.” 

“I warned you; I’m not a saint,” he laughed and delivered a sloppy kiss to her cheek. Fuyumi whined loudly and wriggled about in his grip. 

“I really need to finish those lesson plans!” she insisted and pushed his face away from hers. She felt him frown deeply against her palm, and then playfully kiss it. “You can’t charm your way out of this one!” 

“Fine! I’ll just stay awake until you’re finished. <3” Fuyumi rolled her eyes again, so hard she felt her optical muscles stretch, but she had to admit that his decision sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Still shirtless and seemingly not caring to remedy the issue, he tromped behind her as she exited the kitchen, pausing only to grab a few more ginger cookies to munch on them. 

As she passed through the living room, Fuyumi flipped the lamp back off. The darkness dove in with the banishment of the light to flood the small space with gloom. Its blue and black hue smothered everything in sight, but that was all right. 

Fuyumi had her light right there. 


	40. Odontophobia

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Keigo Takami, Rumi Usagiyama

Requested By: Anonymous User

Keigo’s leg spasmodically jumped up and down at insane speeds, making the plush loveseat he was seated in vibrate against the ornate rug placed beneath its stubby wooden legs. His heart thrummed in his chest, his heartbeat hammering his bones so hard he could hear it pounding in his eardrums. He hunched forward such that his elbows planted into his knees, pressing down with enough force to bruise his patellas— not that he took notice of the dull pain slowly blooming in his skin. His hands laced over his lips, and above his trembling fingers, his golden irises swam in the seas of white that were his owlishly wide eyes. 

His gaze fixated on the door opposite him, where the dental assistant would be calling him back any moment now. Every hero had their Achilles heel— but damn it, why did Keigo’s have to be the damn  _ dentist _ ? What was he, a ten-year-old? Actually, the ten-year-old playing on his smartphone in the corner had much more composure than Keigo, so he retracted that.

Keigo nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand slapped onto his shoulder. 

“How are you holding up, bud?” 

Keigo snarled at the very obvious amusement lacing Rumi’s tone as she sneered in his ear. He should have known that asking Rumi to accompany him to the dentist was an idiotic idea. Rumi didn’t have a comforting bone in her body; so far, she’d just been barely suppressing her intense enjoyment of his suffering, sometimes betraying herself with snide comments. Still, Rumi was about the only person he trusted with his irrational fear. She might be being an ass about it, but at least she was an ass that could keep her mouth shut. He could only imagine the field day that the paparazzi would have if they got ahold of this juicy tidbit. 

If Keigo could have avoided it, he totally wouldn’t be here. However, he couldn’t deny that it had been inevitable. During an altercation with a villain several weeks earlier, he’d been smacked in the face with a brick, shattering one of his molars and cracking it right in two. Of course, to avoid going to the dentist, he ignored the problem— until the infection set in. No amount of oral gels and leftover antibiotics could prevent the fact that his tooth would rot out of his head. So, after several days of agonizing pain, night sweats, and nearly fainting at a briefing, Keigo had resigned himself to the terrifying fact that he needed his tooth removed. 

And so, here he was, shaking like a leaf in a dentist’s office. 

His gaze slipped sideways as hushed whispers reached his ears, and intense stares prickled his skin. This was an establishment that catered only to heroes and their families, but most of the patients today seemed to be low-level heroes and sidekicks. Several of them were gawking unabashedly at Keigo— and  _ gossiping _ . 

“Is that Hawks?” 

“No, it can’t be. There are plenty of winged heroes out there— and besides, would the number-two hero be quivering like a baby over a visit to the dentist?” 

The blatant insult made Keigo’s feathers ruffle in shame and embarrassment. Though he tried to stop them, tears pricked at the corners of his avian eyes.  _ How mortifying,  _ he thought, nausea swirling in his belly as the humiliation set in like poison. Every muscle in his body was drawn taut, like a frayed rope whose last fiber was ready to snap. 

Rumi whacked him in the side of the face with a magazine. 

“Look, look!” she grinned while pointing at a page. “It’s me! Don’t I look hot?” Keigo looked disinterestedly at the implicated article, where Rumi was posing powerfully with a couple of massive barbells. The pages of the magazine flapped back and forth as she wiggled the magazine in delight. “Man, I’m almost tempted to steal it. I have a copy of the article, of course, but I look good enough that I should carry a copy around in my wallet!” she cackled and thumped the soles of her feet against the ground, the slaps muffled by the thick rug. 

“Yep. You’re a hottie,” Keigo droned flatly. He was back to liquifying the door with his frantic gaze. If he could manifest laser vision and destroy it, then he would never even have to see the dentist. 

He tensed further as more hushed whispers floated into his ears. 

“Maybe I should just cancel the appointment,” he posed to Rumi, his voice cracking as he neared a mental break. “Yeah! They’re busy today. I can come back another time. Let’s go—” 

As he went to stand up, Rumi grabbed him by the bicep and yanked him back down with so much force that the chair jerked back, a loud screech piercing the quiet waiting room air as it lurched off the rug and scratched the tile. The whispers immediately silenced as the other patients gaped at Keigo in shock. The winged man made no second attempt to rise because he knew that testing Rumi would not end well for him. 

“You’re getting that tooth out, birdbrain,” the rabbit-eared woman quipped as she filled out a “ _ Which hero are you? _ ” quiz in the magazine with lidded eyes. After a few seconds, she snorted, “How the fuck did I get  _ Gang Orca _ ?”

Keigo did not answer because he had resumed vibrating at the speed of sound, trying to phase into the chair and through the floor. 

The door finally opened, and Keigo’s stomach dropped into his feet. The dental assistant sweetly called his hero name, but Keigo refused to get up, adhering himself to the chair. It wasn’t like he could escape because his stupid obvious crimson wings gave him away— he simply couldn’t get his legs to move. 

The sofa beside him creaked as Rumi lazily rose and discarded the magazine. She stretched her arms and legs for a second before grabbing Keigo by the back of his shirt and hoisting him up. 

“Come on, birdbrain. Time to go.” 

Though his brain so sorely wished to rebel, his legs obeyed the willful woman’s wishes, carrying him over to the petite dental assistant. His feathers were puffed out with anxiety, shaking along with his jittery body. The dental assistant didn’t miss a beat to her credit, smoothly directing him to the back room where he would see the dentist. Everything she said went one ear and out the other, as he was staring at the specialized furniture like it was an electric chair. 

“Mr. Hawks, sir? I’m going to need you to lay down, please.” 

Keigo twitched violently as the dental hygienist tapped him on the shoulder to yank him out of his stupor. With a nervous laugh, he nodded and approached the chair. He stiffly settled into the plastic-covered surface, wings awkwardly sticking out at odd angles. He tried his best to tuck their massive bulk against the sides to provide the medical professionals enough access to move. Though he wanted to make it cumbersome, he knew Rumi would start ripping out feathers if he acted out. 

When the dental hygienist left to get the dentist, Rumi flashed him a cheesy grin. 

“You okay, stud?” 

“Never better.” The high-pitched keen cracking his tone betrayed him. Rumi chuckled and shook her head. 

“I gotta say, I never imagined that  _ this  _ would be the thing to take down big, bad Hawks. The little birdie scared of the  _ dentist _ ,” she chortled in disbelief. Keigo just pouted at her, too high-strung to muster up a snide reply. His heart felt like it was doing its best to explode out of his ribcage. When Keigo didn’t answer, she narrowed her white eyebrows. 

“Hey. It’ll be okay.” 

Before Keigo could respond, the dentist walked in. 

“All right, let’s take a look at that tooth,” the dentist smiled pleasantly, sitting down in the rolling stool as the assistant wheeled in a metal tray. 

Keigo made the grave mistake of glancing at it. 

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” he repeatedly moaned, wings flapping anxiously as he tried to climb out of the dental chair and fly out through the nearby window. Rumi jumped up to grab him by the shoulders and coax him back down, soothing him with gentle shushes. 

“Hey, hey, just relax. Don’t look at that stuff; look at me, okay?” Rumi crooned as she braced herself over him. Hawks golden irises were just specks of gold in a white plain with blood-red rivers. She held the side of his head with one strong hand, keeping him from impulsively looking at the metal instruments he could hear rattling against the tray. “Hey. Birdbrain. Eyes on me.” 

As his brain dissolved into mush, Keigo concentrated on the only safe thing in the room— Rumi. 

“That’s it,” she cooed as he fixed his terrified gaze on her face. He remarked at how soft her features became as she smiled kindly in the back of his frazzled mind. “There you go. I’m right here, birdbrain.” 

Keigo blubbered something nonsensical, ragged breaths wracking his body as he began to hyperventilate with fear. All he could think about was knowing that the dentist was loading a syringe of anesthetic next to him. As he heard the rolling chair squeak and felt the dentist’s legs bump his quivering wings, Keigo released a high-pitched whine and pushed himself away, pressing into the arm of the chair so hard it indented his arm and leg. 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Rumi scolded gently as she turned his head back so that the dentist could have access. He still stubbornly kept his mouth clamped shut. He looked pitifully at her, begging for respite, and she cocked her head expectantly. “Keigo, you need to open your mouth.” 

“Dun wanna,” he refused through tightly pressed lips. 

“I know you don’t, but the dentist needs to do his job. You want this to be over with, don’t you? Let him numb your mouth.” 

Keigo whimpered but obediently teased his lips and teeth apart. He kept his eyes on Rumi the entire time, trying to ignore the hazy form of the dentist in his peripheral vision. He winced as the needle plunged into the inflamed gums near his tooth, and an agonized groan bubbled up in his throat. Rumi leaned down to press the bulk of her forearm down on his chest so he wouldn’t jerk and risk breaking off the needle in his mouth, so he channeled his nervous energy by writhing his legs against the chair. 

“That’s it. You’re doing good,” Rumi purred encouragingly. His jellified mind relished the praise, using it as motivation to continue to lie still as the dentist pumped the numbing medicine into his burning gums. “That’s right. Just relax.” 

Keigo found himself slowly relaxing his muscles and melting down into the dentist’s chair at Rumi’s patient and gentle reassurance. His fluffed-out wings jerkily smoothed down, though the crimson feathers still trembled. He blinked a few times, pushing out the tears in the corners of his eyes and sending them rolling down his cheeks. Rumi tutted and thumbed his tears away. He couldn’t even process how crazily weird it was seeing the ordinarily brash and uncouth Rumi so gentle and caring with how frantically his neurons were firing. The one single brain cell that could recognize the situation flooded him with intense gratitude. 

He tried to talk as the dentist was putting the pliers into his mouth. 

“Ugh… Wumi…”

“Shh. Just relax,” Rumi repeated and combed her fingers through his wavy blonde locks. “Didn’t you get taught not to talk with your mouth full?” she teased. Hawks snorted a little in laughter, glad to see a bit of the normal Rumi shining through. 

Though still incredibly tense, Keigo tolerated the remainder of the procedure well thanks to Rumi’s continuous encouragement. When the dentist ripped the rotted tooth free of his gums, Rumi insisted that they look at it, and she cackled at the gross black film of bacteria that had destroyed the enamel. When the dentist packed his mouth with gauze to staunch the bleeding, she joked that he was becoming a rabbit like her and pinched his numb and rounded cheek. Keigo elbowed her away as he sat himself up in the chair, pawing at the skin of his face and marveling how he couldn’t feel a thing. 

When they stepped out of the dentist’s office after finalizing payment, Keigo slumped against the wall, thoroughly exhausted from the ordeal. His eyes drooped with fatigue, and his muscles were screaming at him for terrorizing them so thoroughly. As he planked against the wall, he peered out of his peripheral vision at Rumi, who stared blankly at him. 

“Go ahead. I know you want to tease me,” Keigo sighed. He braced himself for the outrageous cackles and slurry of insults. Instead, Rumi just exhaled. 

“I’m not going to make fun of you,” she said with a click of her tongue. She crossed her arms and jutted her hip, her fluffy ears swiveling. “You trusted me enough to ask me to come with you. I’m not going to sully that by preying on your insecurity.” 

Perhaps he was still emotional, but Keigo’s eyes watered as sentiment surged up in his body. Bottom lip wobbling like a child, he turned and made grabby hands at Rumi in a silent demand for a hug. Rumi snorted and rolled her eyes but walked forward to embrace him with an amused smile. She squeezed him with a small grunt, and Keigo buried his face into her long streams of silver-white hair. 

“You smell like carrots.” 

“You smell like nervous sweat. Get off,” Rumi huffed, but instead of pushing him away, she just gently retreated until her hands were resting on his shoulders. Keigo smiled apologetically, a bit of gauze poking out of the edge of his mouth. With a wide grin, she patted his shoulder. “Hey, you wanna go to the bubble tea place you like? My treat.” 

Keigo’s wings splayed out behind him in excitement. 

“Can we get fried chicken dumplings, too?!” 

“Yes, we can get fried dumplings. Come on, birdbrain. Times-a-wastin’.” 

Rumi set a brisk pace down the sidewalk, leaving Keigo to trot after her. His harrowing order fled his mind surprisingly past, chased away by the stream of pleasant babble tumbling from Rumi’s animated face. 

As a hero and in daily life, Keigo had many challenges to face— some more daunting than others. At first, he fancied himself a loner. However, as time went on, he found himself growing more grateful every day that he had good friends to share the hard times with. 

He wished less of that was potential blackmail material, though. As nice as Rumi was pretending to be right now, he just knew that somewhere down the line, she’d been weaseling some carrot cake and free dinners out of him soon… Which was unnecessary because all she had to do was ask, and he’d come flying. 


	41. Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Shota Aizawa, Emi Fukukado

Requested By: On_kamis_green_earth (Ao3) & selmeuuh (Tumblr)

“Shotaaaaaaa~!” 

A vein immediately bulged in Shota’s forehead as the loud, wheedling voice he knew painfully well came floating in from the entrance to the teacher’s lounge. He pretended not to hear it, focusing intently on the half-finished lesson plan documents in various windows of his laptop screen, but he couldn’t escape the droning hum of Hizashi’s voice. Shota’s blood pressure increased with every step that the loud blond took towards him. 

When Hizashi gripped the back of his rolling chair to trill “ _ Shotaaaa _ !” in his ear, his hypertension was probably bad enough to give him an aneurysm. Tragically, none of his blood vessels burst, leaving him to deal with his mischievous coworker. 

“ _ What _ , Hizashi? Can’t you see I’m busy?” he grumped, rolling his eyes to peer at the blond leaning over his shoulder. Hizashi’s bright emerald eyes glimmered above the rim of his sunglasses, which had slipped down his nose. “What? What is it? Just get it over with.” 

“Go get dinner with me ‘n Nemuri!” Hizashi pleaded with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Shota’s lips curled into a frown, and he regarded his friend with dull, lidded eyes. 

“No,” he refused promptly and turned back to resume typing into his laptop. He hunched his shoulders as Hizashi immediately began to whine into his ear. 

“Come onnnn! You’ve been in here for three hours! Let’s go have some fun, get some drinks, relax a little! You’re so  _ tense _ ,” he tutted and began massaging Shota’s shoulders. The dark-haired hero felt a disgusted shiver crawl up his spine, so he lightly shoved Hizashi away. He slowly turned in the rolling chair with a deep sigh to glare grumpily at his fellow teacher. 

“You aren’t going to leave until I accept, are you?” 

“Nope!” Hizazhi confirmed and waved his hand dramatically. “I will sit here and annoy the  _ crap  _ out of you until you cave~” Shota exhaled heavily and rubbed his temples, feeling the headache coming on already. He glanced out of the corners of his eyes at his laptop screen. 

_ Well… I  _ **_have_ ** _ been working on these lesson plans all day… A drink or two to unwind can’t hurt,  _ he conceded reluctantly. With another sigh, he languidly rose from the chair. Hizashi clapped his hands together excitedly. 

“Woohoo! You’re not going in those rags, though. Nemuri scored a free dinner at that fancy seafood restaurant on the edge of town.” Shota immediately went to sit back down. “Heyyyy!” 

“Too much work.” 

“Don’t be such a downer! Come on! Do it for the free lobster!” Hizashi begged while shaking him back and forth by the shoulders. Shota bared his teeth in a displeased frown as his head rocked back and forth. 

“Okay,  _ okay _ ! Knock it off!” Shota growled and swatted Hizashi away. His friend fluttered around him with glee as he packed up his laptop and other supplies. When he slung his laptop case over his shoulder, Hizashi beamed elatedly. 

“Okay, you go back to the dorm and change, and Nemuri ‘n I will meet you at the restaurant, okay?” 

Shota quirked an eyebrow at the unusual suggestion but decided against asking Hizashi to clarify. Instead, he obediently meandered to the dormitory while the blond disappeared into the night. 

As he unlocked his room, he glanced into the common room to see most of the class giggling around several open bags of jumbo marshmallows. Denki was sitting on the coffee table with his cheeks stuffed with the white confections, making them protrude like a chipmunk’s. In fact, he’d shoved so many of the marshmallows into his mouth that he couldn’t even close it properly. Hanta stood next to him, pumping his fists and begging him to try on more.  _ One of them had better know the Heimlich,  _ Shota thought with a snort and proceeded into his room to change. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Shota clicked his tongue as he glanced at his watch, cursing every tick of the minute hand past six p.m. Here he stood like an idiot outside the restaurant, dressed to the nines looking like a stood-up loser. 

Of course, Nemuri hadn’t trusted him to change into something decent; as soon as he’d entered his room, she’d FaceTimed him and had ordered him to display the contents of his closet so she could choose a suitable outfit for him. The entire time she’d berated him for his lack of style, but eventually, she’d settled on a pair of black slacks, a blue button-up tee with a black vest, and some dress shoes. She’d even made him slick his hair back. 

Shota clicked his tongue and compulsively rechecked his watch, though it hadn’t even been a full minute.  _ Where are they?  _

Shota blinked when his phone chimed. He opened it up to see a text message in the group chat he shared with Nemuri and Hizashi. It was a simple message from Nemuri: 

**_April Fool’s!_ **

“Fuck  _ me _ ,” Shota snarled and locked his phone. Whatever their plan, Shota was surely in for a night of Hell. He cringed when he heard a delighted squeal float down the sidewalk towards him and slowly turned to feast his eyes upon whatever torture would be implemented upon him that night. 

“E-Emi?” he croaked in shock when the seafoam-green-haired woman came bounding down the sidewalk as fast as her white heels would allow. Her summer green dress swished around her knees, and her ruffled white blouse fluttered in the wind as she  _ clack _ - _ clack _ - _ clack _ ed over the pavement towards him. Shota could only stand there, slack-jawed and frozen, as the Ketsubutsu Academy teacher approached rapidly. 

A cheesy smile adorned her face as she came to a stop before him, the pearly whites of her teeth complemented by the sleek gloss coating her lips and the rosy hue of her cheeks. 

“Shota!” Emi exclaimed enthusiastically, one arm flailing to wave her clutch purse wildly through the air. “How funny seeing you here, huh?” She then snorted piggishly in laughter and began lightly elbowing him in the ribs, eyebrows jumping up and down as she grinned knowingly. “Get it?  _ ‘Funny’ _ ? Ya know, because I’m-” she dropped her voice into a harsh whisper and shielded one side of her face with the flat of her hand, “ _ Mrs. Joke _ ?” 

Emi began cackling hysterically and slapping Shota’s shoulder while he continued to stand there, stoic, unimpressed, and gears turning wildly to develop a revenge plot against Nemuri and Hizashi. Emi quickly calmed down, sighing contently as she wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “Oh, man, how hilarious. Ahaha. So, what’re you doing here?” 

“What’re  _ you  _ doing here?” he countered defensively. Emi blinked and cocked her head to the side inquisitively. 

“Mmm? Nemuri set me up on a blind date.”  _ Of  _ **_course_ ** _ she did,  _ Shota thought, scowling deep enough to flash his gumline, not unlike a particular explosive student of his. The female teacher frowned deeply as she stood on her tip-toes to peer over Shota’s broad shoulders. “There’s no one else here, though. Shota, did you see anyone walk inside?” she asked as she dropped back down on the flats of her heels. 

A despicable part of Shota wanted to lie to her. Really, he did; he could feel it bubbling up in the back of his throat, ready to coat his tongue in abominable poison. He swallowed the urge, though, for he could not bear to lie to Emi even if it would get him out of this stupid prank by his friends. No, he couldn’t take it, he realized as he watched the happiness dissolve right out of her eyes. 

“Emi…  _ I’m _ your blind date.” 

Emi gawked stupidly at him for a moment. After a few seconds, she fluttered her green lashes wildly and began stammering. 

“I-I’m sorry, Shota; I’m just not used to you making jokes.” 

“I’m  _ not  _ joking, Emi,” he sighed in frustration. His eye began aching, as it always did when he was stressed, so he cupped his palm against the healed fracture of his eye socket while he scowled. “Nemuri and Hizashi tricked me into thinking I was meeting them for dinner, but in reality, they were setting us up for April Fool’s Day.” 

“Oh.” Emi’s voice was hollow as she clasped her purse tightly in front of her stomach. Her expression was blank as she swallowed the bitter pill of reality that Shota had just dealt her. “ _ Oh _ ,” she repeated, softly, and Shota tensed at the disappointment lacing her small voice. 

_ Oh _ , he wanted to  _ kill  _ them for this, and not even because it was an inconvenience to him. No, fury frenziedly boiled Shota’s blood because he did  _ not  _ like witnessing the sad tears brimming in the corners of Emi’s eyes. He clenched his fists and his teeth as white-hot fury seared just beneath the surface, but he kept composed, not wishing to upset Emi any further. 

“Ahahaha!” she suddenly burst into laughter and pressed a hand into her cheek. She could always flip a switch like that, hide her true feelings behind a mask of giggles. “That’s today? You’d think I would know that, considering— Anyway, I’m sorry those two dragged you out here for nothing, Shota! I should get home before it gets too late,” she hummed while turning on the slim heels of her white shoes. “Even for a hero, the streets are dangerous at night. See you la-” 

She stopped mid-sentence as Shota’s hand snatched her wrist with a purposeful but tender firmness. Her forest-green eyes snapped to him with a mixture of shock and wonder, and he met her gaze with narrowed, determined eyes. Emi’s cheeks brightened to a rosy hue, and she shuffled her feet anxiously. 

“Sh-Shota, I don’t…” 

“Do you seriously expect me to let you walk home disappointed like this?” he gruffed. With his free hand, he rifled his fingers through his wavy black hair and gave her a sardonic smirk. “Do you  _ really  _ think I’m that much of a fool, Emi?” 

Emi’s blush deepened, creeping down her neck and up to the tops of her ears. She smiled bashfully and demurely tipped her head with a flutter of her sea-green lashes. 

“No, Shota…” 

“Good. Now come on, then.” 

Emi didn’t object as he pulled her off the sidewalk and into the ritzy restaurant. His dress shoes squeaked on the waxed and polished tile as he strode purposefully up to the hostess, and their distorted reflections danced in the marbled glass windows framing either side of the entryway. He politely gave the young girl his name, though he didn’t count much on a reservation; knowing Nemuri and Hizashi, this was part of the prank, too. 

“Ah-ha! Here is it; two for Shota Aizawa at six-fifteen,” the hostess declared jovially after confirming their reservation on the schedule. 

Shota snorted and shook his head. He had to give it to Nemuri; she’d even budgeted time for the duo’s bungling discovery of the treacherous April Fool’s prank. Annoying as it was, Hizashi and Nemuri had this trick planned to a frighteningly precise degree. 

Shota finally released Emi’s wrist as the hostess led them into the dining area. They were seated at a table by the window, giving them a perfect view of the city streets in the early evening. The golden glow of the streetlamps complimented the shine of the crystal chandeliers within the restaurant; the humming of the car trundling by blended harmoniously with the string quartet band filling the air with pleasant sonata. 

Begrudgingly, Shota could only describe the atmosphere as  _ romantic _ .

Shota pulled out the chair for Emi, and she eased into the cushion-padded furniture and neatly tugged her dress under her calves, a stunning picture of poise. Not wishing to embarrass himself in front of all the snooty well-to-dos scattered throughout the venue, he adjusted his tie with a clear of his throat and stiffly sat down opposite Emi. She smiled sweetly as she clasped her hands on the table in front of her. It wavered nearly immediately, and she nervously traced the gem of the ring on her finger with the pad of her thumb. 

“Shota, you really don’t—” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” he asserted, picking up a menu and unfolding it to plant it in front of his face and hide the blush appearing on his cheeks. “I’ve made my decision, and I am going to stand by it, so just decide what you want.” 

He could see Emi’s unsure expression melt into one of appreciation over the rim of the laminated menu. She hummed in response before daintily plucking up her own menu. After a second, he saw the edges of a big grin stretching over the top of the plastic. 

“I can have anything I want?” 

“Anything,” he confirmed. “I’m not a cheapskate when it comes to dates.” 

“So you acknowledge that this  _ is  _ a date?” she grinned, lowering the flap of the menu to lean across the table and trace the rim of the empty wine glass seductively. Shota raised the menu higher to conceal the blush now raging out of control across his cheeks. He cursed himself at the slip of the tongue, but in the back of his mind, Shota considered the notion that he really wasn’t malcontent with this surprise outing with Emi indeed being designated a date. 

She looked gorgeous tonight. Shota’d be a moron if he didn’t admit it. Her sea-green tresses bounced in luscious curls around her face, which was adorned with just enough make-up to be classy. Her eyes were lidded as she gazed lustily at him, her lashes voluminous and long thanks to careful curling with mascara. Her eyelids shimmered with white, glittery eyeshadow that matched the shade of her dress, which hugged her curves in all the right places. Highlighter accented her cheekbones, and gloss brought a shimmer to her lips that Shota could almost call  _ kissable _ . 

Shota snapped his eyes back to the menu, cheeks reddening. These were thoughts he should  _ not  _ be having right now. 

“Heehee! Shota, you’re so fun to tease!” Emi squealed, rearing back in the chair to clap her hands together delightedly. The plastic lamination of the menu crinkled as Shota gripped it excessively tight. 

“Laugh it up, Emi, while you have me for the evening.” 

“Oh, I intend to,” she purred and raised her wine glass as the waiter came bearing a bottle of complimentary champagne and poured a healthy amount into both their glasses. She sipped at the bubbling gold liquid elegantly as she stared intently at him from across the table. When he glanced up, he almost imagined the alcohol reflecting in her eyes, like rivers of gold running through the forests of her irises. “I intend to,” she repeated in a soft whisper, and her eyes grew lidded again as she looked at him like he was a dream. 

He couldn’t blame her, really. Considering the way he’d brushed her off for so long, if he were in her position, he’d be wondering if this was a dream himself. 

Wow. Maybe he  _ was  _ a fool. 

He dropped the menu down with a quiet sigh just as the waiter came to retrieve their food orders. Though Shota had given Emi leave to order whatever she wished, she still ordered something reasonably priced. The waiter delivered them a basket of fresh yeast rolls and some side salads to tide them over until their entrees arrived. 

They ate in silence, nothing between them but the occasional scrapes of their forks on the ceramic. 

Shota awkwardly searched for a topic of conversation. He’d never been the talkative type; he left that up to his friends, merely serving as the listening ear, only offering occasional quips. As time went on, his surprise date reclined further and further into the ornate chair. Emi continued to swirl the champagne around in the glassware, sipping it occasionally and staring at the lace tablecloth with an expression that could only be described as  _ sad _ . 

Frowning, Shota leaned his cheek into his elbow and narrowed his eyes, abandoning the Caesar salad for the time being. 

“Hey.” The deep timbre of his voice called to her like a siren/ Her eyes flickered up to meet his. He smirked a little and gestured lazily with his hand at her despondent form. “What are you thinking about? You’re not one to…” he trailed off, eyes flickering across the room as he struggled to voice what he was observing. “You’re upset,” he said, opting that bluntness was better. Emi squirmed slightly, setting her silverware down and dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. 

“I can’t help but feel bad,” she admitted with a forlorn sigh. Her gaze dropped down to her lap, and Shota had no doubt that her fingers were digging into the folds of her dress to claw at her thighs beneath. “I’m trying to be happy and appreciate what you’re doing for me, Shota, but…” She trailed off, and Shota jerked up in his seat when she released a petulant whine. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, dyed black with the mascara. “Excuse me!” she gasped abruptly and jumped up to scurry off to the bathroom. 

“Emi, wait—!” he cried, reaching his hand out to grab her. But she was already gone, her dress fluttering like doves as she fled from him. 

She fled from him. 

Shota sat there in utter disbelief, and he searched, searched  _ deep _ inside himself— and he came to the realization that he did  _ not  _ like seeing Emi this way. Not one bit. He did not like seeing that sad look distorting her pretty features or the mascara-laden tears carving down her face. That was not Emi. 

Shota wanted  _ Emi _ . He wanted the happy-go-lucky woman who laughed at the simplest things and always tried to make others smile. He wanted the woman who was so full of life and joy that it was infectious, bleeding even past his rough, stone exterior to make his world just a little bit brighter. He wanted that smile like a supernova, so bright that it kept all the shadows that haunted him at bay— if only for a little while. 

Shota slumped into his chair, running his hands over his face as a potentially startling epiphany struck him. 

Maybe he was in love with Emi, just a little bit. Maybe after all this time, her jokes and bright smiles and random texts had finally slowly worked on him, and he’d fallen in love with her without even realizing it. 

Holy shit, he  _ was  _ a fool!

“Emi!” he cried again. The chair scraped loudly as he pushed out of it, running towards the bathrooms. He nearly knocked over a waiter in his mad dash, but he only had time to sputter a half-hearted apology before taking off again. He stumbled into the small back hallway panting and pink-faced, wild-eyed as he stared at the slightly ajar door to the women’s bathroom. 

He could hear her crying inside. 

“Come on, Emi!” she asserted, her voice thick with tears. Shota jumped as the air rang with the distinct sound of the woman slapping her palms against her cheeks. “You need to be happy!  _ Happy _ ! Shota’s nice enough to take you out even though he didn’t have to. You need to show how grateful you are, even if it’s not—” He could hear her voice wobbling precariously, dropping in pitch as the sorrow took back over. “It’s not—” The bathroom echoed with a mournful sob. “It’s not  _ real _ .” 

He slowly pushed the door to the bathroom open to find her leaning over one of the sinks, knuckles white as she clenched the granite countertop tight. Her sea-green hair hung into her eyes, but he could see the tears splashing down onto the swirls of brown and white stone and the flush in her cheeks peeking out between the curled strands. The other stalls were unoccupied. Emi heaved another sob, her entire body trembling as she tried desperately to suppress her emotions.

“I’m Mrs. Joke… I’m not supposed to hate April Fools’ Day. I guess it hurts when you’re the fool, huh?” 

“Emi.” 

She jerked violently as he spoke, whirling around with her heels clicking against the tile as she took a few tentative steps back. Her eyes flew wildly in every direction, searching for an escape. Shota calmly advanced towards her, his steps slow and deliberate so as not to startle her. Emi gulped and tried to side-step him. 

“L-look, thank you for a pleasant evening, Shota, but I—  _ Eep _ !” 

She squeaked in alarm as he suddenly caged her in against the countertop, one strong arm on either side of her slim waist. Her hands splayed against his chest, but she didn’t make any move to push him away. They just rested there, her fingers trembling along with the rest of her body as she struggled to process what was happening. “Shota,  _ please _ ,” she begged meekly. “You don’t have to make me feel better. I can’t… I can’t  _ take  _ it,” she sniffed and dropped her head shamefully. “I know you don’t feel the same way about me, and I can’t force you to. So, please… Just let me go home and… try to get over it.” 

Shota listened to her pleading with sad eyes. How could he have been so heartless? He’d always tossed aside Emi’s playful flirtations as just that—  _ jokes _ — but he’d neglected to view them for what they really were: cries to be  _ noticed _ . 

He whispered her name as he threaded his fingers into her soft green hair, cupping her cheek. It was still hot from the force of her slapping it. She immediately pushed into his palm, relishing the warmth emanating from his being like it gave her life. Her lashes fluttered as she savored the touch, and Shota’s heart broke all over again at the realization that it was he who reduced her to this. 

Damn Nemuri. Had this been part of her plan too? 

“Emi, listen to me,” Shota said firmly. Emi obediently peered through her teary lashes at him, sniffling quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been blind.” His other hand gently grasped her waist, and he didn’t miss the way she tensed underneath his calloused skin. She stared doe-eyed at him as he nudged his leg between hers, pushing her back against the counter until her back arched a little. She gasped at the intimacy of it all, shuddering at the implications and the smoldering passion that had alit Shota’s dark eyes. He leaned down to press his forehead against hers, smiling bitterly. 

“You’re not the fool.  _ I am _ .” 

“Shota? What are you saying?” Emi asked reluctantly. She gazed at him with measured fear, calculating if this was just another ploy to help her feel better or a genuine confession. 

Words had never really been his forte— so Shota  _ acted _ . 

Her body jolted as he swept her up in a kiss. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his dress shirt, and she sucked in a breath through her nose as their lips met, body tensing with surprise and forcing her up onto her tip-toes. However, as Shota’s lips worked fervently against her own, she slowly melted in his hands. She languidly slid back down as Shota pressed into her, leaning her over the counter to elicit a small groan from deep within her chest. Her hands slid up to weave into his tousled locks, spreading apart the gel-slicked strands as her fingers twisted into them. One of his hands kept an iron grip on her waist, while the other traveled through those luscious curls, fingers parting the seafoam green sea of strands. 

He pulled away slightly only to angle his head and kiss her more deeply, finding himself addicted to the way her soft lips molded against his. Overwhelmed with the urge to taste her, he gently ran his tongue along her bottom lip, groaning quietly as her cherry-flavored lip gloss smeared a little. The groan grew louder when she timidly parted her lips to allow him to sweep her tongue up in a passionate tango of movement because Emi tasted sweeter than that lip gloss ever could. She tugged weakly on his hair as he explored her mouth like he was searching for something immensely important, and maybe he was. 

They both inhaled sharply when they broke apart, red-faced and panting from oxygen deprivation. Emi's eyes were hazed with desire, slowly clearing as she realized what had just happened. Shota traced her jawline with his fingertips, appreciating how she instinctively tilted her head to present the column of her throat. He could feel her bounding pulse as his fingers slipped down her carotid and jugular. 

"Please tell me this isn't part of the joke," she whispered. Shota replaced his fingers with his mouth, pressing deep, passionate, open-mouthed kisses down the length of her neck before lingering at her collarbone. He felt so intoxicated by her now; how had he missed how maddeningly beautiful she was all this time? Or perhaps he always knew and pretended not to because deep down, he was afraid of someone loving him and loving someone back. 

He had to make up for the lost time. 

"Of course not," he murmured against her skin. He tracked his way back up to her lips with chaste butterfly kisses, leaving his mouth resting just over hers as he stared deep into her eyes. "You always told me I never had a sense of humor, remember?"

Emi snorted at his little quip. Her arms made a home around his neck and her fingers in his hair, teasing the wavy ends continuously. When she looked at him again, she wore that smile that was so bright that it nearly blinded him, but it filled him with such warmth that he sought it out nonetheless. 

"Always so serious," she hummed, bringing one hand to trace the stubble peppering his chin. "We make quite a pair." Shota just grunted in acknowledgment, too busy dotting her knuckles with more kisses. Emi watched him with love blooming in her forest-green eyes, pleased to find him so affectionate. 

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize. You must have been hurting such a long time," Shota sighed. Emi shrugged, rolling her eyes indifferently. 

"It's okay. I have you now." Again, he hummed in agreement, this time while straightening up. Once he spied their reflection in the mirror, he smirked and pulled out his cell phone. He turned Emi slightly, baring her shocked expression to the mirror, and snapped a picture just as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. He sent it to the group chat with only the caption,  **_Fool indeed._ **

"Eh? What was that all about?" Emi inquired as he slipped his phone back in his pocket and stepped away from her. He grabbed some paper towels and began wiping the mascara trails from her face, making her squeak in protest. 

"Nothing," he assured her once he finished. "Now then, we'd better get out there before they think we dined-and-dashed." They walked out together with Shota placing a guiding hand on the small of her back, unbothered by the few questionable glances they got from the other patrons. Their food arrived right as they were sitting back down. As he eased back in the chair, he flashed Emi a wolfish grin. "Now, then— How are we getting revenge on those two?" 

Emi smirked and pointed her fork at him. 

"I thought you'd never ask." 

At times, even heroes were complete and utter fools— after tonight, Shota was enough proof of that. He could stomach fooling himself, but not  _ being _ fooled; therefore, Nemuri and Hizashi were about to get a  _ little _ dose of their own medicine. 


	42. I've Got These Scars, But I Think They're Pretty

Category: Angst, General Fluff

Characters: Dabi

Additional Tags: Role Swap AU

The bright white waiting room hummed with hushed conversations of waiting patients, worried family, and chatting nurses. Dabi sat hunched in a chair, leg bouncing and hands clasped tight, but not because he was awaiting treatment. His aquamarine eyes scanned the room to observe the comings and goings, the brightly-colored spandex suits and the fluttering capes as the local heroes made their rounds visiting the various tenants of the pediatric intensive care ward. 

By all rights, Dabi should be among them— but he didn’t exactly fit the mold of  _ hero _ , even if he was a member of a bonafide agency. With a quiet sigh, he sat up to observe the dark purple scars and silver staples adorning his marred skin. No, children shrieked and cried at the sight of him and his scarred body. He’d only undo the optimism the other heroes were instilling in the ailing children if he strutted around pretending like he wasn’t some kind of patchwork monster. 

Sighing heavily, Dabi leaned forward to cradle his head in his hands. 

It was times like this that he loathed his father the most. So  _ easily,  _ Dabi could have turned to the path of vengeance and brought retribution in the form of a fiery inferno, but he hadn’t. He’d persevered; he’d endured the trauma and abuse and his own goddamn skin melting off his bones as he lived in his own circle of Hell until Shoto came around. He’d overcome all the urges and temptations to become a hero— but he still couldn’t be  _ normal _ . They always wondered in the back of their minds if he was unhinged or a villain spy because of these scars he was forced to bear. 

Dabi clenched his teeth and curled his fingers into his hair, fingernails scoring into his scalp as he struggled to reign his volatile emotions back in. Oh, how he  _ hated  _ Endeavor, but he hated himself more for slipping back into these spirals of thought time and time again. Frustrated tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he seethed in self-loathing and resentment and struggled not to let the negative feelings swallow him whole. 

_ I shouldn’t be here.  _

“Hey, mister, are you here to get treatment?” 

Dabi jerked up with a small gasp as a sweet little voice yanked him out of his depressive spiral. He blinked rapidly, his teary eyes blurring his vision into hazy watercolors for a few seconds, until the form of a small child materialized into view. Her eyes were bright and wide as she regarded him curiously, a half-eaten chocolate bar in one hand and the other bundled to her chest in a thick cast. Gauze covered two-thirds of her body, making her seem like a little baby mummy standing before him. 

He straightened up in the chair and rubbed his sweaty palms across the fabric of his ripped jeans. 

“Oh, um… No.” 

“Are you visiting someone?” she asked, chomping down on the chocolate bar. Dabi grimaced slightly as she kept her stare fixed upon him while chewing open-mouthed on the sweet confection. It was a little unsettling, as he was so used to the wrong kind of stares; the little girl didn’t seem to register his scars at all, just gazing unblinkingly at him out of nothing but pure curiosity. 

“Um… Sort of. I’m with the hero agency visiting today,” he explained. The girl cocked her head to the side with a slow blink. 

“Then what’re you doin’ sittin’ out here? Are you tired?” 

_ Somebody come get this kid!  _ Dabi thought as he shifted uncomfortably. Though he’d deeply desired for a kid to be able to converse openly with him like this, now that it was happening, it was such a foreign sensation that it was deeply unnerving. He cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced around to find someone who could serve as a decent excuse. Unfortunately, all the heroes were busy in patient rooms— leaving Dabi to fend for himself. 

“Look, kid, aren’t you supposed to be in a room somewhere?” he evaded. The little girl shrugged and took another bite of the chocolate. The piece broke off with a loud snap before she chewed avidly on it.

“Yeah, but I wanted some candy, so I took some of my allowance and went to one of the vending machines. I don’t remember what room I’m s’posed to be in, though, so now I’m lost.” 

Dabi had to snicker at her completely emotionless analysis of the situation. The tyke reminded him of Shoto, almost, with that dispassionate disposition and monotone voice. Dabi’s head lolled on his neck as he took another look around. The nurses and doctors were nowhere to be found now, either.  _ Well,  _ he thought as he pushed himself out of the chair,  _ I guess I should do the “heroic” thing and escort her back to her room.  _

“What’s your name, squirt?” 

“Katsumi.” 

“All right, Katsumi. Let’s go find your room, huh?” he said as he strode off. The girl obediently trotted to keep up, continuing to munch on her chocolate bar and smearing it a little across her lips. The ICU of the children’s hospital was the largest of the facility, so realistically, it could take a considerable amount of time for Dabi to find Katsumi’s room in the sea of beds. He slipped his hands in his pockets as he strolled along, icy blue eyes flicking between the name placards adorning the closed doors. Dabi was more than content to tread along in total silence, but the little girl— not so much. 

“Hey, mister, where’d you get those scars?” 

Dabi glanced down to see her gaping at the purple patchwork decorating the visible parts of his body. However, what startled him and stuttered his steps was the look on Katsumi’s face; rather than disgust, fascination adorned her features, and there was a strange sparkle in her eyes. He stood frozen as she tucked the chocolate bar under her armpit so she could run her fingers over the wrinkled, stitched skin of his forearm. 

“They’re burn scars, aren’t they?” 

Dabi’s expression softened as Katsumi’s eyes grew lidded. She ran her fingers over the marred areas a few more times, then reached back to claw at the bandages swathing half her body. “So when I’m all better, will I look like this?” 

Dabi’s throat closed up as he felt the oddest sense of shame washing over him.  _ I shouldn’t be here,  _ he thought again. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do as Katsumi studied his injuries and envisioned herself like him— barely held together by staples and prayers? He bit down on his lip as it grew hard to breathe, and once again, the hate began to well up inside of him, a geyser threatening to explode and arch into the sky in frightening brilliance. 

“Your scars are so pretty.” 

Dabi almost fell over. 

“Do— do  _ what _ ?” he cried as he looked down at her in shock. Katsumi gave him a sweet, innocent smile as if what she’d just uttered wasn’t insanely weird. She shyly rocked her hips back and forth as she placed her hand on his arm again. 

“Purple is my favorite color!” she explained with a giddy laugh. Dabi’s face wasn’t sure what kind of expression to make, but it made  _ something _ . He sagged in disbelief— and a whole lot of  _ relief _ — as Katsumi continued to admire the disfigured skin painting his forearm. Her eyes were lidded again, but this time in a childlike hopefulness. 

“That’s what happened to me, y’know. A house fire,” she said and raised her arm as much as she could in the cast. Dabi refrained from contradicting her; it was easier for her to believe something simple like a house fire and not years on years of pushing his Quirk beyond his body’s physical limits. “The nurses and doctors are all super nice, but… I hear them talking about how it’s such a shame that I’ll be scarred for life, a pretty girl like me.” When she looked back up at him, tears bubbled in her eyes before rolling down her plump cheeks, rosy with life and pain. “I’ll still be pretty even with these scars, right?  _ Right _ ? Just because I have them, people can still love me,  _ can’t they _ ?” 

Dabi breathed sharply through his nose as he ran a hand through his dyed hair. Of all the things he’d thought would come of today, comforting a crying child in the middle of a hallway wasn’t one of them. Yet he couldn’t help but feel glad for it. This little girl echoed the same things he’d felt after his incident. 

At least, unlike Dabi, Katsumi had someone to put her fears to rest. 

“Of course they can,” he said as he crouched down. His coat brushed against the white tiled floor as he kneeled beside Katsumi and rested a hand atop her head to ruffle her hair. “If anything, the scars’ll make you even prettier. They’re a sign that you overcame everything and came out still standing, yeah?” Dabi was never the best with words, so he hoped that Katsumi understood. 

She stared at him for a moment, still sniffling petulantly. However, little by little, a smile wormed its way onto her face. 

“Really?” 

Dabi’s smile broadened and gave her hair another ruffle, making her giggle. 

“Really. Don’t listen to what those nurses say. Anybody who has any sense’ll know that those scars don’t make you anything less.” 

“Thanks, mister,” she preened, and Dabi swore the smile she gave him was brighter than the sun itself. As he stood, she lunged forward to take his hand and lace their fingers, still probably feeling a little emotionally vulnerable. Dabi didn’t make any move to rebuke her, only tugged on her slim arm so they could resume walking down the hall. Soon she was swinging his arm back and forth as she pranced along, much more animated and happy that she had been previously. 

Dabi felt a sense of pride welling up inside him, knowing that just a few words of encouragement had illuminated Katsumi so brightly. 

Suddenly, he was very glad he came. 

Eventually, they located Katsumi’s room. The nurse nearly bowled Dabi over when they meandered up, screeching at him about kidnapping and not listening to a damn word he had to say. Though Katsumi brightly attempted to explain that Dabi was a kind hero who had led her back, the nurse was about to call the authorities on him until Hawks sauntered up and slapped his gloved hands on Dabi’s shoulders to give her a brilliant grin. 

“It seems there’s been a big understanding. Ma’am, this is one of the heroes working at my agency, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t call the authorities on him.” 

The nurse dropped the phone with a series of confused sputters, pointing at Dabi as if that was all the evidence she needed. Dabi sagged into the bird-man’s grip, irritation bubbling up inside him. For a moment, he had forgotten how much of a ruffian he looked to the general populace. Hawks continued to diffuse the situation with practiced grace. 

“I know he looks like a thug, but I promise, Dabi here is a bonafide hero! He even brought your little lost dove back, yeah~?” 

“Yep! We had a great talk,” Katsumi chirped as she clambered back into her hospital bed. She finally remembered her chocolate bar and removed it from her armpit, frowning when she discovered that it was half-melted and squished. After scrutinizing it for a moment, she shrugged and chomped down on it. Dabi smirked as he watched her, very entertained. 

Hawks’ honeyed words had placated the nurse, who begrudgingly offered Dabi a half-hearted and wary apology. He shrugged her off and walked over to Katsumi, who was enjoying the remains of her chocolate bar. 

“All right, squirt. I’m off. Got lots of important hero business to attend to and all.” 

“Will you come back and see me?” she asked, looking up at him with a chocolate-smeared pout. Dabi snorted and pushed her head a little, making her laugh giddily. 

“Of course. I’ll see ya next week.” 

“Okay! Bring some chocolate bars!” 

“You got it,” he waved as he strolled out of the hospital room. Hawks followed suit after cheerfully bidding farewell to the nurse. They both sighed deeply as he closed the door behind him. 

“Well,” Hawks smiled as he strode up beside Dabi and nudged him with an elbow. “Lookit you, gettin’ friendly with the kiddos. I didn’t know you had it in ya, Dabs.” 

“Shut up, you great big chicken wing,” Dabi growled and flashed him a scowl. Hawks laughed good-naturedly, feathers ruffling in mirth. 

“Oh, come on now! It’s progress!” Hawks insisted. Dabi left him standing there with his arms held up like the great big winged moron he was. Hawks pouted and whined after him, but he continued off to the vending machines, suddenly craving chocolate. As the wrapped candy bar thunked down into the receptacle and he leaned down to retrieve it, a serene smile decorated his face as he caught the reflection of his scars in the glass. 

“ _ Yeah, I’ve got scars, but I think they’re pretty! _ ” He could just hear Katsumi bleating to the ignorant nurses. As he straightened back up with the chocolate bar in hand, he rolled up the long sleeves of his coat, exposing more of the purple patchwork skin to the cold air of the hospital. 

“Yeah. Me too, kid.” 

As he walked out of the hospital into the sunshine, he glanced up at the sky and smiled. 

_ I’m glad I came.  _


	43. A Black-Tie Affair

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Melissa Shield

Requested By: bearandbirdfan, Tumblr

Izuku held his scarred hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the bright, piercing rays of the summer sun. Its yellow-gold light bore down from the heavens, for not a single cloud drifted in the azure sky to shield the world below from its brilliance. He popped his shades off the collar of his tee and slid them on, smiling as the world dimmed to a comfortable level of illumination. Despite the minor annoyance, he didn’t quite mind the potent radiation; it warmed the skin of his arms and legs, complimenting the sea breeze that kissed him with salt as it passed. 

It was strange how the world seemed so much purer out here in the middle of the ocean. 

“Welcome to I-Island!” the attendant monitoring the gates chirped pleasantly as Izuku flashed his guest pass. He toted his duffel bag over his shoulder as he strode confidently under the illustrious gates marking the entrance to the technological marvel. Out of the corners of his eyes, he spotted several uniformed officers and a resident pro hero idling at the key checkpoints. 

_It seems they’ve beefed up security since the last time I was here,_ he remarked with a small smirk. A nearly devastating villain attack requires at least some increased vigilance, so Izuku was pleased to see that the island administration had taken the incident seriously. 

“Hopefully, there won’t be a sequel to that fiasco,” Izuku chuckled to himself. Three years later, and a pro hero in his own right, Izuku was definitely equipped to handle any unfortunate debacles. Still, he’d like to actually _enjoy_ the exposition this go around. After all, he was an honored guest this time. 

He grinned as he wiggled the visitor’s pass suspended from the lanyard around his neck and even deigned to do a little happy jig in the pathway. 

A few of the passersby glanced at him amusedly. He had decided to dress in his plainclothes for his arrival on the island; as much as Izuku loved to chat and mingle with his fans, even he sometimes needed moments to enjoy himself. A few people gave him contemplative glances as he strolled down the concrete pathways meandering between the gardens and fountains and towering buildings. Yet, no one approached him, and he didn’t interact with those who gave him lingering stares. There would be plenty of time for autographs and photo ops over his stay; today, he just wanted to enjoy the exposition. 

As he arrived at his hotel and strode through the sliding glass doors, he paused, looking over his shoulder at the resplendent 200-story tower piercing the veil of blue sky behind him. A smile of nostalgia worked onto his lips as he recounted scaling the building with his classmates and his new friend. 

_I wonder if I’ll see Melissa while I’m here?_

His mind lingered on the girl as he went through the task of checking into the hotel. He’d kept in touch with the girl after his departure from I-Island, maintaining an amicable friendship throughout his time at U.A. Though they communicated with texts, phone calls, and the occasional video chat, Izuku hadn’t physically seen Melissa since that fateful fair. They led busy lives, after all, so it was challenging to find time for extended visits. He’d been so busy up until coming that he’d even forgotten to inform her that he was here. 

As he stood in the elevator, he pulled out his smartphone and debated texting her. As his thumb hovered over the text box, a mischievous smile wormed onto his lips, and he shoved the phone back into his pocket. 

_If she doesn’t know I’m here already, I’ll surprise her at the pre-opening party tonight!_ He decided with a snicker. The elevator chimed pleasantly as the doors opened onto his floor. He swung the room key around his index finger as he jaunted down the carpeted hall, already fantasizing about how he’d flummox the pretty inventor by his sudden and unannounced appearance. 

The party couldn’t come soon enough, he lamented as he flung his suitcase onto the bed and flipped it open to begin unpacking. But come it would, and Izuku was eager to reminisce with his friend. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku craned his neck to sweep his gaze across the crowd of pro heroes and well-to-dos occupying the ballroom of the pavilion. Though his inner geek squealed over the famous superheroes loitering about, Izuku squashed down his fanboy urges to focus on the task at hand. After a few minutes canvassing the scene, he finally spotted voluminous waves of blonde hair and a cheery smile amongst the throng— and he took off into the fray. 

Lithe as a panther and slightly crouched, he silently snuck up on the hapless girl. A few of the older adults watched him with amused smirks as he stalked his prey. Melissa was none the wiser, amicably chatting with her fellow scientists right up until the moment Izuku snapped his beefy arms around her waist and lifted her clear off the ground. 

“ _Surprise_!” 

Melissa squealed and kicked her feet, white dress fluttering around her legs to reveal her sleek heels. She gripped Izuku’s biceps with manicured fingers, struggling a little under her head snapped back to get a look at her apparent captor. 

“Oh my gosh! _Izuku?!_ You scared me!” Melissa scolded half-heartedly, her giggles buffering any venom she could have tried to put into her tone. She playfully slapped at his shoulder as she relaxed in his grip, melting against his muscular build as he continued to hold her aloft. “I had no idea you were coming! I was so busy in the lab that I never got a choice to peek at the guest list.” 

“I was hoping that was the case. I wanted to surprise you!” Izuku grinned as he gently set her back down. Melissa stepped back to smooth the wrinkles in her dress and tuck her disarrayed blonde hair back behind her ears. She looked radiant as she glowed with happiness, clearly overjoyed to see him after all this time. She gave him appraising once-over, then reached out to smooth her hands down the bulging muscles of his arms barely contained within his tailored suit. 

“Wow! Look at _you_! You look like Uncle Might,” she joked. Izuku preened with pride, flexing his muscles with a blinding grin in mimicry of his beloved teacher and mentor. Melissa giggled airily at his impression of the once-musclebound icon. Her teal eyes glimmered as she continued to drink in Izuku’s physique. “Wow,” she breathed again, looking up to meet his gaze. “You’re as much the hero as I always knew you’d be.” 

Izuku’s face blazed bright red, and he turned to the side as he shyly rubbed at the back of his neck. He got compliments like that daily, but they never failed to fluster him. As he discomposed, Melissa hummed delightedly. 

“I’m glad to see you haven’t changed _too_ much!” When he looked at her in befuddlement, she gestured to his raging blush and twiddling fingers. “Still as shy as ever.”

“Hey, now that’s not nice,” he pouted, looking back at her. Melissa just laughed again and closed her eyes, basking in the jubilation as she clasped her hands behind her back. 

Now that he paid attention, Melissa had changed over the years as well; her luminous hair was longer, swishing around her hips. She’d grown a little taller, but Izuku now dwarfed her in height— he had a good four or five inches on her. On top of that, she just exuded this aura of maturity and elegance that Izuku found inspiriting. Her white silk dress hugged her figure in all the right places, with a sweeping neckline decorated by a gleaming goldstone pendant. 

_Uh-oh._ Izuku’s blush deepened, creeping down his neck and up to the tops of his ears. He hadn’t expected his teenage crush to come creeping back in so easily. Oh, yes— after their meeting, teenage Izuku had been _positively_ besotted with stunning Melissa Shield for quite some time. Now here they were, in a black-tie gala after years apart, and it seemed those feelings he’d put to rest had resurrected with a vengeance. 

Chuckling awkwardly, he tugged at the band of his emerald-green bowtie, which suddenly had a stranglehold around his neck. 

“S-so, how’s the laboratory going?” 

Melissa’s eyes illuminated like the ocean sun. 

“It’s going splendidly! I’ve been working on tons of projects. Hey— would you like to see them?” she said, sweeping his hands up in hers and squeezing them tight. Izuku choked on air at the intimate action, but Melissa was too enlivened to even think of the implications. Gears and bolts danced in her blue-green eyes, making it nearly impossible for Izuku to kill her sudden euphoria. 

The next thing he knew, Melissa was leading him by the hand through the empty halls of the laboratory. The clicks of her heels, the scuffs of his dress shoes, and their childlike giggles echoed in the white-tiled, wide-windowed corridors. They were both a little breathless when Melissa unlocked the workroom’s steel doors and flipped on the fluorescent lights. They washed the workbenches and machines with a bright white glow, displaying Melissa’s multitude of creations in all their glory. 

Naturally, Izuku gravitated to a gauntlet nearby. 

“Oh, wow, is this a new model of the armguard you gave me back then?” he asked as he inspected the maroon-colored accessory. Though it was clear Melissa’s expertise had polished based on the sleek and compact design, he could recognize the base of the equipment underneath all the new bells and whistles. Melissa brightened at his realization, peeking over his shoulder to smile warmly at the piece. 

“That’s right. This is the newest prototype. I modeled it with you in mind, actually.” 

Again, Izuku’s face burst into a fiery blush. Melissa smirked in amusement, eyes flickering to his face before back down at the stylized gauntlet. 

“After we met, I just felt so _inspired_ ,” she explained with a wistful smile. “Don’t get me wrong; dealing with my father’s betrayal was very hard… But I remembered how hard everyone fought and how determined you all were to be amazing heroes, and that memory just kept me going when I thought I couldn’t go one anymore.” Gently, she took the armored glove from his hand to adore it. “Working on this… Making it better and better… In a lot of ways, it serves as physical evidence that I’m improving myself, too.” She looked at him with an embarrassed laugh. “Does that make sense?” 

“Wha—? O-Oh, yeah, it makes total sense!” He stumbled over his words because he had too busy dreamily admiring Melissa’s pretty visage as she pored over the gauntlet. “I get it,” he sighed slightly as he smiled down at it. “I have my own reminder.” 

Melissa knitted her eyebrows as he rolled up the sleeve of his suit jacket and blazer. She sucked in a soft breath as he revealed the marred skin of his forearm, and her fingers reached out to ghost over the rumpled, red skin. Izuku’s eyes were lidded as he drank in the disfigurements that embodied his road to herodom. 

“It wasn’t easy… But anytime I got discouraged, I looked at these and remembered that I’m still stronger than I was yesterday,” Izuku said as he covered the scars back up, sensing that Melissa was growing more upset the longer she looked at him. He smiled confidently and placed his hands on his hips, hoping to ease her perturbation with his radiant optimism. “Don’t look that way! They don’t hurt most of the time.” 

“You are _definitely_ just like Uncle Might,” Melissa snorted and shook her head. He smiled crookedly at her back-handed compliment. However, her mood had significantly brightened, which relieved Izuku. She set the gauntlet down with a pleasant hum. Leaving it behind, she led Izuku around the rest of the laboratory, gushing over the many projects she’d been working on. Though he’d be ashamed to say so, most of her words faded into the background as he simply basked in her presence and how she illuminated with glee. 

She was blinding like the sun had been this morning, but Izuku had no care to dim that light this time. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize how late it was!” Melissa gasped as they walked outside. The clock tower near the academy building revealed that the hour was nearing ten o’clock— meaning the gala was long over. She laughed apologetically at Izuku, placing a hand on her reddening cheek. “I got too carried away in there… I’m sorry I robbed you of your chance to rub elbows with all the other pros.” 

Smiling, Izuku slipped his hands into his pockets and shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about it! To be honest… I really only came to the gala to see you.” 

Even in the gloom, Izuku could see the hue overtaking her cheeks, making them shine like pink opals in the moonlight. Her coyness and the solitude of the late evening bolstered his confidence; he reached out to gently play with the round goldstone adorning the gold necklace looped around her neck. He could feel her heartbeat and breath stutter as his knuckles lightly brushed the skin overlying her sternum. His name left her lips in a shaky breath, while her teal eyes regarded him with a mixture of trepidation and exhilaration. 

“In fact… In the interest of full disclosure…” Izuku continued, taking an experimental step toward her. Melissa did not retreat, only continue to gape at him with slightly parted, plush, glossed lips that Izuku wildly desired to kiss to see if they were as soft as he’d always thought they’d be. He brushed one of her curls out of her face to tuck it behind her ear, and on its path back, his hand settled snugly against her cheek. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride as she sought out his touch, twitching to rub the soft skin against his calloused palm. “The only thing I could really think about the whole way here was how _excited_ I was to see you.” 

“Izuku, I-I…” Melissa breathed. Her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to form words. Her throat bobbed as she pierced her thoughts together, and Izuku waited patiently, not wishing to rush and cross any boundaries. After a thick swallow, she meekly admitted, “I’m really excited you’re here, too.” 

As they stared into each other eyes, the tension mounting in the silence, Izuku decided that he only had one more thing left to say. 

“Melissa, can I kiss you?” 

It seemed words had failed Melissa entirely, for she only nodded eagerly. Izuku couldn’t help but smile at the cute display, but he hurriedly stifled it— he couldn’t keep a beautiful lady waiting, after all. As Izuku leaned in, his lips drawing nearer to hers, he felt the tension leak from Melissa’s muscles as she abandoned herself entirely to the bliss yet to come. As soon as his lips brushed sweetly over hers, he felt her body sing— felt the electricity jolt through her nerves, making her body flush and her hair rise in pleasurable goosebumps. Her lips melded effortlessly with his in a gentle rhythm, like they had been made for one another.

He pulled back after a minute, feeling himself growing flustered. Smiling bashfully, he tugged at his bowtie again and felt his undershirt stick slightly to his body as nervous sweat bloomed on his skin. Melissa’s eyes fluttered open to glimmer at him, shining like the rolling waves of the aquamarine sea. 

Izuku had always thought she was so gorgeous that it was painful, and that was only confirmed by the way his heart clenched in his chest as she glowed like a goddess in the starlight. The breeze rippled her voluminous hair and silky dress, making her sheerly resplendent. He wondered for a second if he’d fallen asleep in the hotel room, and this was all a dream because she looked so ethereal at this moment that it simply _couldn’t_ be real. 

Melissa raised an eyebrow when he pinched the top of his hand. 

“This isn’t a dream, Izuku,” she snickered. Izuku smiled bashfully and rubbed at the back of his neck again. 

“Can’t help it,” he shrugged. “You’re so beautiful that it’s dream-like.” 

Melissa turned pink again and shyly swung her hips from side to side, hugging herself as if to shield herself from his endorsements. 

“It’s late,” she said again, though only to fill the silence. Izuku hummed with another glance at the clock tower. Though he’d love nothing more than to waste the night away with Melissa, he supposed the chivalrous thing to do would be to let her retire. 

They had his entire visit, after all. 

Hand-in-hand, bathed in the moonlight, the two young adults enjoyed their last moments of solace beneath the moon as he walked her home. Though they’d missed the pre-opening party of the annual expo, Izuku didn’t mind— he much preferred intimate moments like these to black-tie affairs anyway. 


	44. A Bright New Year

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Class 1-A, Eri

Izuku fidgeted as he hid behind the sofa. He’d been crouched there for ten minutes, and his calves were aching, but that’s not why he twitched relentlessly. No, his body simply couldn’t process the sheer amount of happiness and excitement he was feeling right now. His emerald curls and eyes peeked above the back of the sofa, gleaming gaze trained on the front door, where little Eri was due to walk in any moment. 

_I can’t believe we’re gonna celebrate Eri’s first new year!_

When the girl had informed them at their dorm Christmas party that she never recalled celebrating the new year with her family, Class 1-A had scrambled to plan a party so that the little girl could experience the holiday in all its glory. They’d prepared oodles of traditional food and snacks, organized party games, and each pitched in to grant Eri over two thousand yen in New Year’s money in pretty red-and-gold envelopes Momo had procured. 

Thus, there they were, hiding in various spots across the common room armed with party poppers and rolls of streamers. As the lock clicked, they sucked in a collective breath in anticipation. As soon as Eri’s blood-red eyes and silver hair toddled across the threshold, they sprang from their hiding places, poppers booming to spill confetti in the air and streamers arcing over the furniture. 

“ _Happy New Year!_ ” 

Eri jumped back into Mr. Aizawa’s legs with a startled squeak. It took her a moment to register what had happened, and a confused smile slowly bloomed on her small, round face. 

“Is… Is this for me?” 

“It sure is!” Izuku confirmed as he walked around the couch. He leaned down in front of her with his hands on his knees. “We all got together so we could celebrate the new year with you, Eri. We have tons of fun stuff planned for you. Would you like to participate?” Izuku thought to ask because Eri still dealt with social anxiety issues, though attending the school festival had loosened her up considerably. Her eyes were wide as she swept her gaze across the smiling faces (and Katsuki’s attempts to look friendly). 

“Yeah… I want to have a New Year’s party, Deku!” she nodded brightly. Izuku’s grin widened, and he stood up to offer her his hand. She wrapped her tiny hand around his first two fingers, and he led her over to the coffee table, where Ochako was sitting on a cushion. 

“Would you like some mochi, Eri?” Momo offered, seated on another cushion. Eri looked at the provided squishy rice cakes curiously before tentatively poking one. She released a delighted gasp as it yielded to her light touch and left her finger coated in sugar. She sucked on it thoughtfully, smiling at the sweet taste, before picking one up and biting into it. 

“It’s delicious!” she squealed. Izuku plucked up a piece of mochi and passed beside her to sit on the sofa, watching warmly as she enjoyed the treat. When Eri noticed the scraps of paper situated on the coffee table, she cocked her head to the side curiously. “What’s this?” 

“It’s a game called _fukuwarai_. Would you like to play, Eri?” Ochako said. Eri finished off her mochi as she nodded, sitting down on the cushion between Momo and Ochako on her knees to reach the table. Ochako explained the game to the little girl, who concentrated very hard on the pieces of paper as the elder girl told her she had to arrange them into a face while blindfolded. 

A bright smile adorned Izuku’s face as he sat tucked against the corner of the couch, nibbling contentedly on his mochi while Ochako slipped a blindfold over her big, ruby eyes. Izuku snickered as the silver-haired girl looked around blindly, squeaking as the cloth covered the upper half of her face. As she tentatively reached up to lift the bottom up and take a peek, Ochako tutted scoldingly. 

“Eri! You can’t peek,” Ochako reminded. Eri obediently dropped her hand, and the older girl critically inspected the fabric to ensure that it was adequately covering Eri’s eyes. Then, she gently helped Eri scoot herself up to the edge of the table. The little girl’s hands began to fumble over the pieces of paper scattered over the wooden surface. 

“How am I supposed to know where the parts go if I can’t see?” Eri whimpered as she picked up a cut piece of paper in the shape of some lips. Ochako giggled sweetly as she sat back on her heels and used her cell phone to film Eri’s first attempt at playing _fukuwarai_. While still holding up the red construction paper mouth, Eri used her free hand to carefully feel around for the large oval piece of paper that marked the face. “Why can’t I look?” she despaired, and as she looked to where Ochako was, Izuku could imagine her little eyebrows furrowed in duress. 

“That’s the rules, Eri,” Izuku piped up from the sofa, stuffing the rest of the mochi in his cheek. He slipped down off the cushions and settled himself cross-legged beside her. Eri’s head swiveled to cast her blindfolded gaze upon him, her hand groping at his sweater. He picked up one of the highly-stylized eyes, deformed courtesy of Denki’s craftsmanship, and smiled down at the perturbed child. “That’s the fun of it— making silly faces! It’s not about being right or wrong— it’s about having fun.” 

Her little lips pursed thoughtfully. She then regarded the lip-shaped construction paper again with her blind gaze. Carefully, she prodded at the oval-shaped paper again before carefully setting it down somewhere in the cheek area. Izuku covered his mouth to smother his giggles. 

Piece by piece, Eri assembled the craft. It was so hard not to laugh at the immense look of concentration on the girl’s face even with the blindfold as she fumbled to arrange them sensically, but it still ended up a slightly disoriented collage. When she lifted the blindfold, she pouted at the strange arrangement she had produced. As tears of shame brimmed in the corners of her eyes, Kyoka snatched it up and held it up beside Denki’s face. 

“Hey, doesn’t it kinda look like Denki when he goes all ‘yay’ mode?” she laughed. 

“Is that any way to talk to the guy charging your phone?” Denki griped, but when he saw Eri’s distraught expression, he sighed. He dropped Kyoka’s phone to grab the side table lamp, discharging all his energy to it. As he slumped dumbly into the couch, stupidly grinning and droning, “yayyyyyyy,” Izuku had to admit there was a striking resemblance with Eri’s handiwork. 

Thankfully, Eri burst into giggles. 

“It does kinda look like him, I guess,” she smiled shyly as Kyoka handed the artwork back to him. When Mr. Aizawa sauntered into the room to check on Eri, she hopped up to trot over, eyes wide as she regarded the older man. “Here. I made this,” she said as she offered it to him. “It’s a… A _fuku— fukuwa…_ ” 

“A _fukuwarai_ ,” the adult finished with a small smirk. He inspected the paper with lidded eyes before smiling warmly and handing it back to Eri. “I would say that’s fridge-worthy. Why don’t you go hang it up?” 

Eri squealed in delight and ran off to the kitchen, where she secured the paper to the refrigerator with a magnet. As she ran in, Katsuki came sauntering out, brushing his hands off on his apron and scowling. 

“Oi, losers! The soba’s ready!” He barked loudly. He glanced down when Eri shyly peeked up at him around his legs, blinking her big red eyes. “What, squirt? You want some soba?” When she nodded bashfully, he steered her around by the shoulders and marched her back inside. She waddled out a few moments later, humming contentedly as she spooned the buckwheat noodles into her mouth. She came over to sit on the couch next to Izuku, who had resumed his previous position. Half the class was now involved in a very competitive game of _karuta_ , and Eri occasionally giggled as Tenya got too excited and flung the cards around in his haste. 

“Are you having fun?” Izuku asked Eri later after she had discarded the empty noodle bowl onto the coffee table. He was shocked to see her reclined against the couch cushions, eyes lidded and smiling in sleepy contentment. 

“Mhmm,” she mumbled drowsily. “‘S the best new year ever.” As soon as the words had left her mouth, her eyes closed entirely, and her head slumped over into Izuku’s shoulder. Smiling, he grabbed a throw blanket and wrapped her up in it, then laid her down with her head resting on one of the throw pillows. 

When he got up to get a drink from the kitchen, he paused to admire the _fukuwarai_ hanging on the refrigerator. Eri had signed her name in bright red crayon in the corner. Izuku grinned widely as he appreciated the clumsily strewn-together pieces of construction paper and thought of the sleepy smile Eri was still wearing as she snoozed on the common room couch. 

_I’m gonna make next year a bright one for you, Eri— and the next one after that is even better, and even better after that. After all, that’s what heroes do._


	45. Live Like You Were Dying

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Oboro Shirakumo, Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada, Nemuri Kayama

Oboro scrunched up his face happily as he sipped at his juice box, enjoying the sweet taste of apple juice bursting on his tongue. It was the perfect thing to wash down the rice and beef he’d just inhaled for lunch. He popped his lips off the straw with a satiated hum, wobbling his head in tandem with clicking his heels. His shoes scraped against the concrete roof— a sound grating enough to awaken the napping boy beside him. 

“You’re awfully _chipper_ ,” Shota grunted from within the confines of his yellow sleeping bag. Before Oboro could answer, Hizashi perked up from Shota’s other side, emerald eyes gleaming behind his shades. 

“Why not be? It’s a _beaaaaaaautiful_ day!” As Hizashi stretched out the word with a delighted trill, Shota scowled dourly and burrowed further into his sleeping bag. The plastic-like fabric crinkled with each of his irritated movements. Hizashi only laughed good-naturedly as the boy zipped up the sleeping bag from the inside, clearly displaying his opinion on the “ _beaaaaaaautiful day_.” 

Unlike his grumpy compatriot, Oboro was very inclined to agree that the weather was dandy indeed. He basked in the warm sun streaming down from the cloudless sky above, rolling his shoulders as it heated the fabric of his school uniform. Birdsong drifted up from the trees and bushes flanking the school building, and occasionally the breeze rustled the leaves, filling the air with a pleasant symphony. Oboro could never understand how Shota could snooze away such a balmy afternoon, but sure enough, his snores joined the melody wafting over the rooftop. 

The snores turned into a startled “snooork?!” as the door to the roof violently flung open. The metallic clang resounded through the air, prompting Shota to open the sleeping bag up part of the way to glare out. Nemuri came flouncing over, skirt swishing around her supple thighs with every sashay of her hips. A confident smirk decorated his lipstick-coated lips as she struck a saucy pose before them. 

“Hey, boys <3” 

Shota grunted disinterestedly and tunneled back into the depths of his sleeping bag. Nemuri’s millionaire smile vanished into a surly pout. She turned to Oboro expectantly, who did not disappoint. 

“Hey, Nemuri. What’s up?” 

“I am _glad_ you asked!” Nemuri beamed, the white flash of her teeth returning with vigor. She flipped her midnight-blue hair over her shoulder as her eyes grew lidded with paramountcy. “I want to formally invite you all to attend a meteor shower viewing this evening.” 

“ _Pass_ ,” came the dispassionate groan from the sleeping bag. Scowling, Hizashi whapped the shiny yellow surface. Shota popped his head out with an indignant glower, to which the blond just raised his eyebrows admonishingly. Shota’s eyes slowly drifted to Nemuri, who had put on her best pleading expression. She even batted her eyes and pressed the tip of her index finger to her slightly parted lip in a look of pure demure. 

“Please, Sho~?” 

“Come on, Shota!” Oboro pressed. He tucked his legs criss-cross and gripped his shins, beaming brightly at his friend. “It’ll be fun. What else do you have to do— _sleep_?” 

Shota gave him a look saying that was exactly what he had in mind for the evening. However, he silently deliberated Nemuri’s invitation and finally released a long sigh of relent. 

“Fine.” 

“Yay!” Nemuri squealed, throwing her hands into the air excitedly. Hizashi and Nemuri soon became involved in an avid conversation about meteor showers’ romantic aspects, with Shota grumbling within his sleeping bag over his soured nap. Oboro resumed sipping at his apple juice, blue eyes beholding the azure sky and envisioning it instead as an inky black canvas studded with glittering stars. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Oboro released a small “hup!” as he hopped down from his cloud. Nemuri had decided that the school roof was the optimal place to view the meteor shower, so he had used his Quirk to float them over the chain-link fence that ringed the area. As his feet met the solid ground, he turned to offer a hand to Nemuri, who flashed him a sultry smile. 

“Oh, what a _gentleman_ ,” she cooed lasciviously. Much used to Nemuri’s flirtations, he only winked at her and helped her slip down from the fluffy cloud. Shota and Hizashi dropped down on either side of her, blinking to adjust to the gloom shrouding them. The light from the nearby lampposts only dimly illuminated the rooftop, casting them in grey shadow. 

Nemuri skipped over to their favorite roosting spot, untying her jacket from around her waist to drape it over the concrete before primly sitting down. Shota shambled over to slide down the wall, legs stuck out and his hands buried into his hoodie pockets. Hizashi opted to stand, leaning against the wall with an earbud stuck in his ear; Oboro could hear the muted tones of his rock music emanating from the one dangling down by his collarbone. Oboro squatted down near the chain-link fence, head craned to behold the indigo-black sky gleaming brilliantly above the campus. 

The stars twinkled like diamonds, splashed across the sky like a thick streak of white paint. A few wisps of gray clouds drifted lazily like canoes across a mirror-smooth lake. In a stroke of luck, the meteor shower fell on the night of the new moon. Thus, the stars were relegated to a solo performance— and they didn’t fall short, bathing the world in a soft white glow. However, they didn’t have to perform alone for very long. 

“There it is!” Oboro gasped as a single streak of light slashed across the sky. It looked like someone scored a pencil across the heavens, etching it into white radiance. After the first once fizzled into nothingness, the sky illuminated with several more, and within seconds, dozens of meteors were raining to earth. The small meteors gave their last breath as they burned away in the atmosphere, crying their death in a burst of luminescence. 

Oboro found it both captivating and haunting. As he watched the meteors shoot across the sky, he marveled at how easily something could just blip out of existence. A flash of light, one final chance to make your imprint on the earth, and then— _nothing_. You fade into oblivion, a passing memory slowly dwindling with time. 

How sobering. 

He peered over his shoulder to his three friends. Nemuri’s sky blue eyes reflected the showering lights, making them twinkle like galaxies of their own; her face was drawn in reverence that he’d never seen before as she beheld the natural phenomena. Shota suppressed his awe better, but Oboro could see his appreciation by the way his jaw set and the gleam in his eyes. Hizashi was even stunned into silence, a thoughtful look on his face and one hand still held up from where he had taken out his other earbud. 

Oboro could tell just by the atmosphere that an intense rumination had pervaded their usually animated group. Maybe they were all thinking the same thing, or perhaps they were all thinking different things. Oboro wasn’t a mind-reader. Nor did it matter— some things were better left unspoken. 

He didn’t want to fade into nothingness like those meteors. Sure, he hoped he’d live a long, fulfilling life— but sometimes things don’t work out how you think it will. If the worst became him, he didn’t want to fade into obscurity, relegating to the dark parts of his friends’ minds that they only looked upon in melancholy. 

Luckily, oddly-beget optimism was Oboro’s specialty. 

“Let’s make a wish!” he grinned suddenly. His friends jerked, startled out of their quiet contemplation by his loud cry. Nemuri’s eyes fluttered as she regarded him curiously, and then she smiled broadly. 

“Oh, what a nice idea! Me first, me first!” she cried, holding out her hand as if flagging down a teacher. She cleared her throat professionally before declaring purposefully, “I want to _dominate_ the hero world with my ultimate sexy style! I will bring both men and women on their knees before me! _Mwahahaha_!” 

Shota looked like he wanted to die. Hizashi appeared elated, and Oboro gave Nemuri a smile somewhere between supportive and concerned. 

“That’s… a nice way to put it, Nemuri,” the blue-haired boy offered placatingly. Nemuri seemed quite pleased with herself, tucking her chin into the webbing between her thumb and forefinger. “What about you, ‘Zashi?” 

“I wanna bring my tunes to the whole world, baby! Spread the love through the power of music, _yeeaaaaaah_!” he crowed, striking a flashy pose. He yelped when Shota punched him in the calf, making his leg buckle a bit. “Oww! Whydja do that, huh?” 

“You’re too loud. You’ll get us caught; we’re not supposed to be up here,” Shota sniffed matter-of-factly. Hizashi stuck out his tongue mockingly before peevishly crossing his arms. When Nemuri prompted him, his eyes widened slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “A good nap would be nice.” 

“Be serious, Shota!” Hizashi whined. The grouchy boy huffed and tipped his head to the side to give his wish some actual thought. 

“I guess becoming an underground hero would be nice,” he shrugged after a moment. 

“Now that’s more like it!” Hizashi praised with a pump of his fist. Oboro smirked at the teeny little smile that appeared on Shota’s lips. “All right, Oboro? What do you wish for?” 

Oboro smiled, looking back up at the splendorous display illuminating the heavens above. 

“Me? Well… I just wish that we all remember times like this forever.” 

A silence descended between them. When Oboro looked back over his shoulder, they were all gawking at him. 

“Whoa, dude. That’s heavy,” Hizashi whistled. Oboro laughed and threaded his fingers through his cotton candy-blue hair, feeling a little self-conscious at how surprised they were. He blushed a little and gave them a sheepish smile. 

“What? A guy can’t get a little sentimental every now and then?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood he’d inadvertently heavied. He smiled lopsidedly, scratching his cheek. “I was just thinking…. You never know which day is your last, right? We gotta make the most out of life, ya know?” 

“Hmm… I see what you mean,” Nemuri hummed appraisingly. Oboro relaxed, glad the heat was off him a little. He glanced up at the sky; the meteor shower was dwindling, fewer streaks lighting the sky with each passing second. “Yeah,” Nemuri said brightly after a second. “A wish to live every day to its fullest… I _love_ it!” 

“Me too, me too!” Hizashi agreed energetically and punched the air a few times. 

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Shota shrugged with a wry smirk. Oboro preened a little, his smile widening as he watched the last of the falling meteors proclaim their final moments to all those watching. 

Oboro made a promise that night to live like those meteors— screaming his presence to the world for as long as he was there, imprinting his being on all those who would listen, and bring joy and smiles to as many people as he could. If he lived like that, enjoying each and every day, then maybe even if the worst befell him, he would leave some kind of mark in people’s memories. 

Live like you were dying, and then, could you really have any regrets?


	46. On The Airwaves

Category: Childhood Fluff

Characters: Rumi Usagiyama, Tenko Shimura

Requested By: On_kamis_green_earth (Ao3)

Rumi’s ears swiveled as she jaunted out of the candy store, busily licking a large rainbow-swirled lollipop while another hand clutched several bags of carrot-shaped marshmallow candies to her front. Drool leaked a little from her lips, blotting onto her jean overalls, which she rubbed away with her wrist. The bags of marshmallows crinkled with the action, making her ears twitch in response. 

The sensitive hairs of her ears quivered as they were barraged with sounds; it had taken several attempts for Rumi to brave the noisiness of their city’s grandiose shopping mall, but over time, her senses had adjusted to the sheer volume of vibrations permeating the spacious structure. She could even hone in on specific sounds pleasing to her ears and tended to prefer the gentle tune of the pleasant music spilling from the loudspeakers to the incessant chatter of the thousands of shoppers. 

Normally, that is— now that Rumi had accomplished her mission of acquiring sweets, she had the task of reuniting with her parents, who were browsing somewhere in the depths of the compound. Eyes bright as she lapped at the saccharine lollipop, Rumi set to walking. Her long, white ears turned constantly on her head to scan the airwaves for her parents’ voices. 

When Rumi went on errands such as these, they made a point to speak louder so that it was easier when she began searching for them. The thought made little Rumi flush with adoration; she really did have such considerate folks. Most parents would balk at the idea of letting a young child loose in a crowded mall, but Rumi was independent— and more importantly, could easily break a would-be kidnapper’s shins. 

Rumi made a face of distaste as she passed the mall’s food plaza. Even with acclimation to the noisy environment, walking past the jam-packed congregation of restaurants and customers always made her ears ring. She flattened the appendages to her head, lessening the pain somewhat, and stalked past the palace as quickly as she could. When she was a safe distance away, she raised her ears again— and heard the distinct sound of a child crying. 

Her eyebrows furrowed deeply as she halted in place, causing a few disgruntled shoppers to grumpily go around. She remained still as her ears whirled left and right on her head, trying to follow the source of the disturbing sound waves. Her feet followed the petulant sniffles into a small hallway tucked between the storefronts— a side exit with bathrooms, benches, and vending machines. Hunkered down by a potted fern was a little boy with wavy black hair, scrubbing at his teary face. 

“Hello,” Rumi announced as she stopped in front of him. He released a strange mix between a wheeze and a squeak as his head snapped up to stare at her with wide, teary eyes. “There’s no need to be frightened,” she reassured him with a cheeky grin. “What’re your name?” 

“T-Tenko,” the boy offered reluctantly as he rubbed at the underside of his left eye with the heel of his palm. She wondered if he did that often, based on the way his skin cracked and flaked beneath his eyelid. “What’s yours?” 

“Rumi. Are ya lost?” 

Tenko’s cheeks flushed pink and he looked miserably back down at his lap. After a few seconds, he meekly nodded his head in affirmation. His sniffles returned as shame rushed through his body; it would be much harder to get information out of him while he was sobbing, so Rumi had to act fast. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry!” she chirped while squatting down in front of him. “S’okay! Everybody gets lost sometimes. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Tenko peered at her through the tresses of his long black hair, eyes gleaming hopefully as he considered Rumi’s words. “Here, you want some candy? These are my favorite, but you look like you could use some,” she said while offering him one of the bags of candy marshmallows. His hand appeared from beneath one of his too-long shirt sleeves; the bag crinkled under his dry, cracking fingers as he gripped it tight. Rumi watched with meaningfully raised eyebrows as he carefully tore the package open and popped one into his mouth. 

“Mmm… Shweet,” he mumbled around a mouthful of the gooey, sticky marshmallow. 

“Aren’t they? It’s just a shame they don’t taste like carrots!” she huffed with an angry twitch of her ears. Tenko swallowed the marshmallow and looked at her in utter bewilderment. 

“You like carrots?” 

“Of course! They’re delicious! Crunchy and munchy and— hey, are you laughing?” she accused with a snort through her nose. The candy marshmallows gently bounced in the bag as Tenko chuckled, holding his knuckles up to his chapped lips. 

“Sorry… S’just kinda funny, because you’re a rabbit.” Rumi’s ears drooped along with the corners of her lips as she gave him a pout. If only she had a carrot for every time she’s heard that! Still, she didn’t say anything because it was a relief to see a half-formed smile playing over his scratched-up, teary face. 

“All right, all right, have your laugh!” she huffed after he wiped the giddy tears from the corners of his eyes. “This  _ rabbit _ is gonna help you find your folks, thank you very much!” 

“Really? How?” 

“With  _ these _ !” she asserted with a sharp point to her long, fluffy ears. Tenko’s eyes slowly drifted up to the twitching appendages sprouting from her mane of silvery hair. “My ears are super-duper sensitive! I can hear everything in this mall— including your parents, which I’m sure are looking for you. We’ll just wander around until we find ‘em,” she explained, putting one hand on her hip with her other hand jutting up her index finger, like a professor explaining a vital point. With his mouth in an awed “o,” Tenko nodded understandingly. 

With a small “hup!” and a slap of her powerful thighs, Rumi straightened back up to her feet and offered Tenko a hand. He shyly rolled up the sleeve of his sweater so he could grip it tightly and allow her to pull him to his feet. Rather than letting go, she just laced their fingers and tugged him out of the small hallway. 

“B-but—!” he protested, the pale skin of his face flushing with a bright red blush. Rumi flashed him a toothy grin and waved her half-dissolved lollipop emphatically. 

“So you don’t get lost again, silly!” 

Tenko swallowed loudly, clearly unsettled by her decision, but did not protest. He just tottered alongside her, holding the bag of carrot marshmallows to his chest as Rumi led him back into the depths of the mall.

“Now, let’s see,” she hummed thoughtfully as she swiveled her ears to and fro, “do you remember what your parents were shopping for?” 

“School clothes,” Tenko answered quietly. “For me and my little sister…” 

“Okay. There are lots of big department stores here, so we’ll just make a circuit of the mall, starting with that one!” she decided with a point of her lollipop to the closest store, a two-story clothing store that carried both casual and dress items. “We’ll eventually have to run into them. Do you think they’ve noticed you’re gone?” she asked as she toted him through the sliding glass double doors. Tenko let out a small sniff and shrugged. 

“I don’t know… Daddy was yelling at my mom for spending too much money on my clothes, and I ran away while they were arguing,” he explained miserably. Rumi raised her eyebrows in shock. Her parents never yelled in front of her, and she couldn’t fathom her father being angry about how much money was spent on her. If anything, they loved to dote on Rumi and make sure she had everything she needed.  _ Parents come in all kinds,  _ she realized solemnly. 

“I’m sorry, Tenko. That sounds really rough. I’m sure your mom and dad will work it out, though,” she reassured as she offered him a smile. Tenko peered out from beneath his bangs, and Rumi was relieved to see his lips curl up just a hint. 

“Yeah… They argue a lot, but they always do.” 

Rumi tried not to let her heartbreak show on her face. She couldn’t imagine what it was like, having to live with parents who bickered day in and day out. She almost had half a mind to abandon Tenko’s parents and take her home with him instead! Actually… 

“Hey! Why don’t you just come live with me?” she posed, stopping in the middle of an aisle to give Tenko a huge grin. “My parents are awesome! They never fight, and they would give you all the clothes you could ever want and more! I’m sure you’d be much happier.” 

Tenko gaped at her in utter bewilderment. After a few seconds of processing the rabbit girl’s ludicrous suggestion, he flushed and looked down at the toes of his Velcro sneakers. The plastic bag of marshmallows crinkled under his fidgeting fingers. 

“That does sound nice, but… Even though my parents argue, I couldn’t leave them. I love my Mommy, and my sister, and my dog…” he said uncertainly. Rumi wriggled her nose, then shrugged with indifference. 

“All right! If you say so!” she said in a sing-song voice before tugging on his arm again. Tenko squeaked as he was suddenly jerked forward, and he clumsily fell back in step with his headstrong companion. Rumi hummed a pleasant tune as she swiveled her ear, scanning the sounds drifted just above the racks of clothes in the large carpeted spaces on either side of the tiled pathways. 

Young women perused the latest trends, holding up cute shirts and dresses to their frames with pursed lips. A businessman chatted to his boss on the phone as he compared how a tie would look with his dress shirt. Two young children played hide-and-seek amongst the racks while their grandmother looked on with a pleased chuckle— but Rumi didn’t hear any sign of Tenko’s parents. Just as she was thinking about moving on to the next store, a frantic cry drifted down the whirring steps of the escalator. 

“Tenko?! Tenko, where are you?” 

“Honey, he couldn’t have gotten far—” 

“This is  _ your  _ fault!” the woman snapped; Rumi could hear the air rushing around her dress as she whirled on the man speaking. “You made him feel guilty! You should be ashamed of yourself, taking out your anger on our child! Tenko has nothing to do with our finances and you know that.” 

“Honey…” 

“Oh, my poor baby… He’s probably lost and alone and upset… Tenko?  _ Tenko _ !” 

Tenko couldn’t hear his mother calling as Rumi could, so he scrunched up his face in confusion as the girl sucked in an excited breath. 

“Come on, Tenko! I think I found ‘em!” she grinned as she took off for the escalator. Rather than riding them up, she hopped up the steel steps, practically dragging the stumbling boy behind her. She jerked to a halt once she reached the summit, causing Tenko to bump into her back with a yelp. She frowned deeply, ears turning furiously to pinpoint the upset mother’s location. 

“Rumi, my nose—  _ Ah _ !” Tenko didn’t have time to complain about his nose slamming into her back as she took off towards the children’s section of the store. Their breaths came in little pants as their feet slapped against the tile; above the symphony of their frantic dash, the panicked chant of “Tenko, Tenko, Tenko!” gradually rose in intensity. 

“Mommy?!” the boy exclaimed when he finally heard his mother’s call. “Mommy! I’m over here!” 

As if summoned, a woman dashed out from between some racks of young boy’s clothes, head snapping around wildly. She appeared so suddenly that Rumi had no time to stop running; the soles of her sneakers slid uselessly over the tile as she all but careened into the woman’s legs. Tenko’s mother exclaimed in shock as the rabbit girl slammed into the plumes of her skirt, and Tenko behind her. 

“Oh, my goodness—! Oh,  _ Tenko _ !” she cried as the black-haired boy rubbed his nose, which had slammed into Rumi’s back again. She crushed Rumi against her legs in her attempts to bend down and hug her son. “I’m so relieved! Honey, why did you run off like that? You had me so worried—! Oh, what’s this?” Her babbles ceased when she registered Rumi’s indignant squeaks within the cloth of her dress. When she straightened up, Rumi crawled out from between her calves, gasping for breath. “Who’s this?” 

“This is my friend Rumi! She helped me find you,” Tenko explained. Rumi tugged her lollipop off of the woman’s dress, plucked away the fibers clinging to its sticky surface, and then shoved the entire thing into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged around the large circular candy and drool dripped from her lips. She garbled a salutation around the lolly, but it came out as senseless gurgling. Tenko’s mother chuckled, endeared by Rumi’s antics. 

“Hello, Rumi. Thank you for bringing Tenko back to me.” 

The lollipop made a popping sound as she took it out of her mouth. She wiped at her lips with her wrist before flashing a rainbow-dyed smile. 

“No problem! I’m gonna be a hero someday, so jobs like this are nothing!” 

Tenko sucked in a breath of adoration. He clutched his mother’s skirts, looking around cautiously, before leaning in close to whisper to her. 

“I wanna be a hero too…” 

“Really? That’s awesome,” Rumi purred admiringly. “We can be hero buddies someday!” 

“It sounds like you’ve made a really nice friend, Tenko.” At his mother’s praise, the boy shyly buried his face into her dress and smiled charmingly at Rumi, who continued to lick her lolly unabashedly. When he went to hand her back her marshmallows, she shook her head. 

“Those’re yours! Think of it as a present!” Tenko looked wide-eyed at the bag, then crushed them against his chest, turning red in the face as he beamed. 

“Rumi, dear, where are your parents?” 

“I dunno. I haven’t found them yet. I was distracted lookin’ for you!” she shrugged nonchalantly. As Tenko’s mother exclaimed an “Oh dear!” Tenko gaped at her. 

“Wait… You’re lost, too?” 

“No!” she refuted with a stamp of her foot. “I am  _ not _ ! My parents let me go to the candy store alone all the time because I can find them! Duh!” 

“Oh…” Tenko blushed, shrinking back into his mother’s skirts. Rumi snorted and shoved her lolly into one cheek, enabled by her rabbit-like pouches.

“Anyway,” she drooled around it, “I should go find them, I guessh. They’ll worry evenshually.” 

“My, what a spirited young girl you are. I’m glad that Tenko found such a dependable friend!” the woman laughed. She dug into her purse to procure a pen and a notepad, scrawling something down before ripping off the sheet and handing it to her. “Here is my phone number. You can call and talk to Tenko anytime, and I’m sure he’d love to play with you again!” To emphasize his mother’s assumption, Tenko nodded eagerly. Rumi folded up the scrap of paper and shoved it down into her overall pocket before giving them both a thumbs-up. 

“Bye-bye, Rumi,” Tenko said bashfully as his mother waved politely and began to lead him away. 

“See ya later! Don’t get lost again!” she called, sucking on her lollipop as she watched them vanish into the rack of clothes. She listened for a moment, hearing his little sister squeal in delight in his return and his father begrudgingly offer an apology. While she still ruminated on the idea of stealing Tenko away, she supposed she could be satisfied with his family, for now. 

She smiled around the lollipop as she heard Tenko whisper a shy, “Thanks for saving me, Rumi…” that only her attuned ears could hear. 

With her mission accomplished, Rumi whirled on her heel. One set of parents had been located, but now she had another to find in the depths of the mall! At least she had her yummy lolly… Still, she found her steps quickening. She could hardly wait to tell them all about her new friend and hurry home so she could call Tenko on the phone so they could set up a proper playdate. She’d even make sure she had some carrots and ranch waiting for him when he came! She couldn’t promise any more carrot marshmallows, after all— they were her  _ favorite _ ! Although… maybe she could save a  _ handful  _ for her new friend. That's what friends did, right? 


	47. Halcyon Days

Category: Family Fluff

Characters: Shoto Todoroki, Natsuo Todoroki

Shoto’s body jostled slightly as the subway trundled through the tunnel, making the arm that clutched the handle above him swing from side to side. He tried his best to center his body so that he didn’t nudge the persons standing beside him too harshly, but his focus lay elsewhere. His heterochromatic eyes fixated on the small rolled-up piece of thick, sheened paper tied with a red ribbon held gently in his hand- his diploma. 

It was such a simple thing, yet it marked the great transition period of his life from high schooler to adult. So much power held in just a thin piece of paper with a signature scrawled across it. 

_ I’ve officially graduated from U.A.  _ The thought bounced around his head like one of those vintage computer screensavers. It wasn’t that Shoto was surprised— he never imagined he’d fail— but due to the tumultuous nature of their three-year education, the day just seemed to sneak up on him all of a sudden. He gawked at the diploma like it was a thing of wonder, and slowly, a smile crept onto his face.  _ I’ve officially graduated from U.A…  _ he thought giddily, clutching the little roll of paper to his chest. 

His phone buzzing in his pocket snatched him out of his brief moment of euphoria. He tucked the diploma softly under his chin so he could dig his cellphone out of his pocket. He swiped to answer without looking and nudged it between his ear and shoulder so he could grab the diploma again, not wishing to crush it against the notch of his sternum. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Shoto! Congratulations on your graduation!” chimed the good-natured voice of his elder brother, Natsuo. “How do you feel? Liberated?” The white-haired man joked on the other end of the line. A smile tugged at the corners of Shoto’s lips, and he relaxed slightly, languidly leaning back while still clinging to the handle above his head. 

“Heh. I’m not feeling much of anything, really. I know I ought to feel some sort of way about it, but I guess all the emotions are crashing together and canceling each other out.” It was the truth. Shoto had expected to be elated, or nervous, or triumphant, or some combination thereof. He was a little pleased, but it was not nearly the level of emotion he’d expected or seen his classmates express at the graduation ceremony. 

Natsuo snickered in response. 

“Yeah, that sounds like you,” the elder man hummed in amusement. “Hey, so, I’m in town; would you like to meet up for a late lunch? My treat,  _ future hero _ .” 

Shoto’s smile widened at his brother’s teasing tone; it had taken him a while to appreciate Natsuo’s sense of humor, but after spending three years with Denki, Hanta, and Mina, the dense and dry Shoto had managed to acquire some nuance when it came to witticism. 

“Sure.” 

They discussed possible options and decided on a café Shoto had frequented a few times, halfway between their current positions. After hanging up the phone, the subway rolled into the appropriate stop a few short minutes later. Shoto melded into the throng that streamed from the underground metal train, bumping along in the crowd until he mounted the stairs to step out into the golden light of the late afternoon. 

The bubbling sun hovered over the short, squat buildings, creeping down towards the horizon to dye the sky in rich hues of red and gold. It threw long, exaggerated shadows across the ground; Shoto’s bobbled along beside him, occasionally melting into the stripes of black stemming from the lampposts before springing out again. Shoto had tucked his diploma in his school bag, but the coiled end of it still poked out of the flap, a silent affirmation that  _ no, he did not dream up this day.  _

A little bronze bell signaled his arrival at the café. It was slightly busy, but the cashier still cheerfully greeted him in-between ringing up the order for the businessman at the counter. Shoto strolled up to the register once the suited man strode off to order himself a black coffee and a vanilla scone. Momo had turned him onto the combination one of the times he’d visited the cafe with her; he wasn’t a fan of intense flavors, but the sweet cake-like confection and the robust coffee complemented one another quite well, at least in his opinion. 

Once the cashier handed over the piping hot cup of coffee and the scone, he meandered over to one of the window seats to wait for his brother. As he munched on the scone, he thought back to the first time Momo had brought him to the café, where they’d perched at the same table at which he was sitting. 

She’d giggled airily at some blunt quip he’d uttered that wasn’t meant to be funny but was so undeniably  _ Shoto  _ that it had tickled the girl. One hand waved daintily as she laughed, while her other held the pads of her fingers over her mouth in a polite and proper gesture that was quintessentially Momo. Shoto had felt an odd sense of contentment and happiness bubbling up inside of him, watching Momo laugh like she had no care who was watching. 

He wondered, now that they’d graduated, how much he would see her now. How often would he see any of his friends, for that matter? At that moment, he realized they were all at a crossroads, with their paths breaking off in so many different directions. The epiphany made him incredibly sad, and for the first time since the ceremony, he wished that the day hadn’t come so soon. 

“Hey!” Natsuo’s cheerful voice snapped Shoto out of his brooding. He straightened up as his brother bustled over, swirling an iced coffee with one hand while pulling his laptop bag over his head with the other. “Have you been waiting long?” 

“No,” Shoto responded and sipped at his coffee. Natsuo’s face melted into a relieved smile, and he plunked into the seat opposite Shoto.

“That’s good. It’d be pretty lame for me to show up late for an outing I invited you to, huh? But hey! I was supposed to pay!” the white-haired man gestured scoldingly at Shoto’s half-eaten scone and coffee. Shoto smiled apologetically. 

“Sorry. I was thinking about it.” 

“Fine. I’ll let you off the hook this time, but I will treat you to lunch one of these days!” Natsuo insisted with a stern look. Shoto’s smile widened in amusement, and he nodded understandingly at his brother’s playful twittering. Natsuo smiled in satisfaction then and reclined back in the chair to drink his iced coffee. 

A few seconds of comfortable silence passed between them. Shoto once again found himself drifted into sad thoughts about where his path would lead him now. 

“Hey, Shoto, are you all right? You seem a little distant,” Natsuo inquired, setting his iced coffee on the table and leaning forward with knitted eyebrows. It took Shoto a second to register that Natsuo had even asked him a question, noticing his brother’s steady stare a bit too late. His jerky gasp only served to heighten Natsuo’s suspicion. “Talk to me, Shoto.” 

Shoto smiled begrudgingly. His brother could read him much too well for his liking, but he supposed that was a testament to how much closer they’d grown. 

“Natsuo… When you graduated high school, were you… apprehensive? Like… afraid that everything you knew was going to change all of a sudden?” 

Natsuo’s inquisitive expression morphed into one of surprise, then into a frown. He leaned back in his chair again while rubbing his chin, and a thoughtful hum rumbled in his throat as he considered it. 

“Well… I suppose I was. I was excited to go to college, but I guess I did spend a little time fretting about how big of a change that was.” Natsuo’s eyes narrowed again as he regarded Shoto with bewilderment. “Is that’s what’s bothering you? It’s pretty unusual for you to stress about something like that, Shoto.”

Shoto frowned and scratched at the side of his head. 

“Well, it’s not that, necessarily. I’m more concerned about… leaving my friends behind,” he admitted, a blush crawling up his neck to bleed into his cheeks. Natsuo blinked owlishly, and then an amused smirk spread across his face. Shoto’s blush darkened as his brother leaned his chin into his hand to regard him interestedly. “Stop laughing at me, Natsuo,” Shoto grumped with a huff and squeezed the paper cup holding his coffee. 

Natsuo’s shoulders jumped up and down as he chuckled warmly. 

“I’m sorry, Shoto. It’s just kinda funny to see you worrying about something like this,” Natsuo digressed and leaned back with an apologetic wave of his hand. He sighed and draped his arm over the back of the chair, and then cast his gaze out of the window to stare at the street through lidded eyes. “I get it, though. You’ve been through a lot with those guys. It can be scary, the idea that you’ll all go your separate ways.” 

Shoto dropped his heterochromatic gaze to the half-eaten scone. As Momo’s little trill of a laugh echoed in his ears, his appetite for the sweet confection vanished, replaced by mild nausea. He could hear Katsuki chiding him for wasting it, and Izuku kindly offering to finish it off for him. He could hear Denki and Hanta snorting with laughter as they used powdered sugar from the doughnuts the café sold to paint mustaches and other silliness on each other’s faces. His eyes began to burn as tears started prickling them. 

Did Shoto really have to give those days up to be a pro hero? Did he have to abandon the people who had gotten him to this point in the first place? If he did, he didn’t want to graduate. He would much rather be locked in limbo, doomed to be a high school student forever, blissful in his halcyon days. 

“Don’t worry. Graduating doesn’t mean that you have to give everything like that up.” 

Shoto looked up with a small gasp. Natsuo had returned his gaze to him, an incredibly warm smile on his face. Shoto felt the tension melting from his body and his own lips curling up as relief flooded through him. 

“Shoto, look,” Natsuo began, clasping his hands together and resting them on the small table, “adulthood is a scary thing. There are a lot of unknowns. But that doesn’t mean that you have to face all those unknowns by yourself. You can still rely on all your friends when times get tough because you guys understand the struggles you’ll face better than anyone.” 

It was a simple reassurance, really, one Shoto probably could have given himself if he really thought about it. Yet, hearing it from Natsuo grounded him much more deeply than if he’d tried to convince himself. Shoto didn’t feel a sliver of doubt as he relaxed in the café chair. 

“Thank you, Natsuo.” 

“Of course!” his brother grinned and waved a hand dismissively. “Glad I could take the opportunity to bestow my big brother wisdom upon you.” The ridiculous drama of his words and actions made Shoto snort in laughter. He really did feel a lot better and illustrated such by picking up the scone and resuming nibbling on it. 

“Friendships are hard work to maintain, though,” Natsuo pointed out with another swig of his iced coffee. “Especially as you get older. You gotta put in the work if you wanna stay friends with all these guys.” 

“Of course,” Shoto nodded with a contented smile. He glanced down as his phone pinged, the screen lighting up with a message in their class group chat from Momo. 

**_Hey, guys! I miss you already! o >//<”o What do you say we get together at my house this weekend for movie night or something? _ **

As his phone began to chime rapidly with an influx of excited confirmations, Emojis, and promises to bring snacks, Shoto’s smile widened. 

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Natsuo.” 


	48. Heroes Rising

Category: Friendship Fluff

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo

_ Hey, everyone! I’m super happy to present the piece I wrote for New Year, New Hope: A BakuDeku New Year’s Zine! It’s a free downloadable PDF, so I encourage everyone to check it out on Twitter to see all the wonderful art and stories that have been created in addition to mine. Enjoy!  _

Izuku’s eyebrows slowly cinched as he drifted through the hazy twilight of half-sleep. As his mind wandered the lavender-gray fog of rising consciousness, his cheek twitched and wordless murmurs slipped through his slightly parted lips. His eyelashes fluttered open to reveal dull emerald eyes. They slowly brightened with lucidity, flickering left and right as awareness bled into his lagging brain. The pre-dawn hour greeted him, shrouding him in contentable gloom. 

Izuku smacked his lips a few times. The quiet noises echoed through the room; he narrowed his eyes at the strange reverberance of the sounds, as it didn’t sound like the acoustics of his bedroom. Upon sitting up and looking around, he realized that he indeed was not in his bed; he’d passed out on the common room sofa. He was surrounded by the rest of his peers. 

“Man… What a wild New Year’s Party,” he snickered under his breath as he kicked a throw pillow off his calves. It flopped onto Denki’s lap, and the boy immediately cuddled and curled around it while murmuring something about hamburgers. Careful not to trod on Mina, who was sleeping with half of her body under the coffee table, Izuku rose and stretched his arms above his head. His vertebrae decompressed with a series of satisfying pops, making him hum in relief as his slightly sore muscles unwound. 

Izuku tip-toed his way to the windows framing the wall of the living room, sneaking his hand under his shirt to scratch at his tummy. He stood before the sleek glass panes to gaze out into the night— or what was left of it. Red-purple had begun to bleed up into the horizon. The gray clouds became awash in lavender and rose, making them seem like tufts of cotton candy floating on the breeze. 

_ Wow. What a great way to start the year,  _ Izuku thought absently. 

“Oh my gosh!” he hissed in the next second, hands slapping to his head to wind his fingers into his green curls. A few mumbles wafted over from the common area, prompting him to swallow the stream of nervous babble about to spill from his mouth. He whirled around to peer into the gloom at the clock; it was still a ways off from the predicted time for the first sunrise of the year. Scuttling as fast as he could through the sea of bodies dispersed on the floor, Izuku headed for the front door. 

_ If I hurry, I can make it! _

The cold winter wind blasted into his face as soon as he threw the door open. He shuddered violently from head to toe as the snow flurries kissed his skin and dove into the crannies of his fleece pajamas, spreading numbing cold through his flesh. For a microsecond, he debated scurrying back into the dorm to bury himself in some nice, cozy blankets where the winter chill could not reach. He shoved that urge aside to steel himself, grimacing as he stepped out into the cold. Rubbing his arms through his pajama sleeves and kicking up the snow with his slippers, he trotted around the side of the building. On the west wall was a black ladder, trailing up the side of the building to the roof. 

“Perfect!” he breathed, and the water vapor instantly fogged. He rubbed his hands vigorously for a few seconds to get them as warm as possible before gripping the lungs of the ladder. 

He squeaked as the ice bit into his palms with tiny, razor-sharp teeth. He whipped around to look at the horizon, hoping he would have enough time to grab some gloves, but more color bled into the indigo sky with each passing moment.  _ Oh no! I won’t make it!  _ he dismayed and returned his focus to the ladder. Grunting, he climbed up to the next rung, and the next. 

He scaled it as quickly as he could, a burn rising in his hands with each time they slapped against the freezing metal. The snowflakes drifted into his tousled hair, settling into the strands like glitter. The little fogs of his breath ghosted over his freckled cheeks as he kept his gaze upon the edge of the roof above. Beyond it, pale yellow snaked through the clouds, making them shine silver. 

“Heh. Silver lining,” he joked quietly. 

The wind snatched at Izuku’s hair as he climbed over the edge of the rooftop. Body shivering and teeth chattering, he toddled to the massive air conditioning unit perched atop the concrete, using its metallic bulk to shield him from the brunt of the gale. He sank down into a squat with a quiet sigh, appreciating the way the reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks had invaded the night sky like wax melting into a canvas. 

“Gorgeous…” he whispered in awe. 

“What’re you doing up here, nerd?” 

Katsuki’s irritated growl bounced across the rooftop, and Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin, shrieking shrilly. Izuku whipped around to see the boy’s ash-blond spikes of hair ruffling in the persistent wind and his red eyes piercing the gale of snowflakes rushing past his slightly pink nose. Katsuki snarled as he mounted the ladder to step out onto the rooftop, rubbing his arms vigorously to stave off the chill as he stomped over. “It’s fucking freezing up here… What in the hell possessed you to come out here at the ass crack of dawn, Deku?” 

“Um… The  _ dawn _ , Kacchan.” 

With a grunt, Katsuki looked to the horizon. The rays of sunlight speared heavenward like bright spotlights to shower the world in gold. Katsuki squinted at the rising sun for a few seconds, while Izuku fidgeted nervously, expecting some sort of scathing rebuke. To Izuku’s shock, Katsuki just nudged Izuku over with the toe of his slipper before squatting down beside him, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned back against the air conditioning unit. In silence, they watched the bubbling sun make her first peek above the skyline to greet the world in all her glory. 

“Aren’t we supposed to make a wish or some stupid shit like that?” Katsuki huffed suddenly, causing Izuku to flinch and squeak in shock again. His vermilion eyes flickered to him in slight disdain, before the irritation drained from the red pools to only look at him thoughtfully. “That’s what Pinky said, or whatever. That it was tradition to make wishes on the first sunrise of the new year. Is that what you were doing up here?” 

“N-n-n-no!” Izuku stammered, waving his hands as his nervous breaths puffed out in clouds in front of him. After a second his fingertips began to burn and go numb, so he shoved them under his armpits to warm them up. Looking back to the rising sun, he smiled contently, “I just wanted to see the sunrise. Now that you mention it, though, making a wish does sound nice.” 

The snow layering the top of the building crunched as Katsuki stood up. Izuku watched with knitted eyebrows, wondering what he was doing, then fell onto his side with a peep as Katsuki slid into a proud, challenging stance and shook his fist at the sky. 

“I’m not gonna make a wish; I’m gonna make a  _ promise _ ! This is gonna be the year I’m gonna surpass All Might!” Katsuki roared, face flushing with conviction. His booming voice bounded on the wind to carry to the city beyond. Though Izuku found Katsuki’s endless confidence and borderline egotism bracing, he felt sorry for all their friends who had just been jerked awake by the explosive boy’s rousing dawn proclamation. 

Grinning triumphantly, Katsuki shimmied back down and rubbed his hands together. “All right, ya damn nerd. What’s your shitty wish?” 

Izuku blushed as he was suddenly prompted. It was too cold for him to stand up in the howling wind, so he just looked at the sun, watching its golden liquid-like light splay over the distant buildings and trees. 

“This year, I’m gonna master One for All and catch up to you, Kacchan,” he vowed solemnly. “A lot has happened in this last year, and we’ve both grown a lot… But I’m not nearly where I need to be yet. I need to keep growing so that I can become a successor worthy of All Might.” 

When Izuku looked back at Katsuki, he was making a face and sticking his tongue out. 

“I asked for your wish, not a damn speech,” Katsuki chided, elbowing Izuku lightly in the ribs. As Izuku whined and rubbed at his bruised flesh, Katsuki’s lips curled up into a smirk. 

“All right, then. Let’s make those wishes— those promises— come true. I won’t accept failure from you, Deku,” Katsuki hummed, staring with lidded eyes as the sun ascended into the rose-gold sky. Izuku blinked at him, then turned to smile at the rising sun, too. 

“Of course. I’ll do my best!” 


	49. If Love Was a Color

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Ochako Uraraka

Additional Tags: Quirkless AU, Soulmate AU

Katsuki’s red eyes zeroed in on the word outlined in the fine print stretching across the six-inch-thick book in front of him. While many of the students congregating in the library would find the massive treatise daunting— especially considering its contents were as dull as the lightbulbs flickering in their dumb heads— Katsuki absorbed every syllable. Committing laws to memory was no easy task, but he embraced the challenge. After all, one day, he would be Japan’s most renowned prosecutor. 

Katsuki’s eyebrows twitched as the loud giggling of girls disrupted his concentration. He glanced over his shoulder with lidded eyes to watch two first-year students clutching coffee cups stroll by.

“So you met your soulmate in Introduction to Biology?” one asked, a pretentious-looking girl whose ponytail looked tight enough to rip off her scalp. 

“Yes! He’s so handsome and  _ so  _ dreamy! He wants to be a doctor; I can’t  _ believe  _ I lucked out with someone so smart and driven!” the other squealed as she pressed a hand to her flushing face. Her cheeks darkened as her friend joked that she should just drop out and marry him since he’ll be so rich; the girl laughed and insisted no, she  _ couldn’t _ , how improper… But Katsuki could see the wheels turning in her head. He scowled as they disappeared behind some shelves, but their giggles floated behind them, clouding Katsuki’s study sanctuary with obnoxiousness. 

Katsuki hated the concept of soulmates— or really, love in general. First of all, it was so fucked that there was some predetermined person you were miraculously just supposed to commit to spending your life with. What if they were a bitch, like that girl who would rather slide right into a rich man’s pockets and had no work ethic? What if they were some bum who lived in their mother’s basement? It burned Katsuki up inside, the fact that he was supposed to just  _ accept  _ someone without them earning his approval first. There was no way in hell he would let someone ride his coattails off the pretense of  _ love _ . He had way too much to worry about anyway, as a college senior. 

Still… Sometimes he had to admit that having monochromatic vision  _ was  _ a problem. Although the world adapted to the fact that people were colorblind until they met their soulmates, most people actively sought them— so by Katsuki’s age, most assumed that you had colored vision. He had to continually nag his professors for including color-coded charts and the like in their lectures because how the fuck was he going to differentiate? Still, that problem could be solved just by making waves— and Katsuki was damn good at that. 

_ Ugh. I have a headache now, listening to those two bimbos prattle,  _ he scowled, rubbing his temples as a dull pounding made a home in his skull. He pushed away from the table, leaving the open books and notes behind to walk the short distance to the coffee shop that adjoined the university’s four-story library. As he stood in line to order himself a plain black coffee, silently reciting the laws he’d just memorized in his head, he didn’t notice the door slam open and someone flurry into the small shop— that is, until they plowed into a chair, tripped over it, and slammed right into Katsuki’s back. 

“ _ Uwahhhhh _ !” they screeched. With a surprised yelp, Katsuki reflexively arched his back as their face crashed right between his shoulder blades. Crimson eyes wide in confused, he whirled around to face the clumsy stranger— 

and then recoiled because  _ color  _ exploded into his world. He groaned as he staggered back into the display, eyes twitching as his previously inactive rods and cones sprang into life to fill his vision with a million different hues. He held his hand over his eyes, trying to adjust to the thin slivers of color peeking out through his fingers, and watched as a short, round-faced girl with a bob cut slowly straightened up while rubbing her nose. 

“Ow, ow, ow,” she whined pitifully before cracking an eye open. Katsuki gawked at the dark, warm hue that filled her irises, the same color as the tables’ rich wood— brown? Was that brown? Her hair was the same color, so if she was a brunette, it would make sense. Slowly, he lowered his hand from his eyes, squinting as the pain ebbed. She raised her head, mouth opening to apologize— and then she inhaled sharply. 

“Wow. Your eyes are such a  _ beautiful  _ color.” 

Katsuki could feel the heat rush from his toes to the crown of his head. His mother had always told him he’d had crimson eyes like rubies. The girl continued to pore over them, a serene smile blooming on her face before it dawned on her. 

“Wait, wait, wait, I—  _ color _ ? But that means we—! You’re my—! Oh gosh!” she spluttered. Katsuki winced as she slapped her hands hard to her cheeks, causing the skin to bloom pink there—  _ pink _ , yes, that was the color of blushing. She continued to squirm wildly, entirely overwhelmed by the situation, before she managed to squeak out a sentence. “I’m Ochako Uraraka! It’s very nice to meet you, um, soulmate— Oh, that sounds so creepy!” she wailed and tugged at her chestnut tresses of hair. She looked apologetically at him. Her face turned a deep burning red. “Let me try this again… Your name, what’s your name?” 

“Katsuki Bakugo.”

The barista called him to take his order, so he turned on his heel and did. As he was handing a few bills over the counter, Ochako scampered up behind him to peek over his shoulder. 

“A plain black coffee, huh? You see the type!” she chirped. “I like sweet things— iced coffees with lots of cream, sugar, and flavored syrups are delicious! My favorite flavor is Irish cream— hey, where are you going?” she whined as Katsuki ignored her prattling to take his coffee and begin walking to the exit of the store. He grimaced as she followed after him, swinging her arms and hips a little so that the little planet glitter charm— it was dark, could that be purple?— on her bookbag swung back and forth. “We’re soulmates, right? We should get to know each other, don’tcha think?” 

“Sorry,” Katsuki huffed as he pushed the door open. “I don’t do the whole soulmate thing.” 

He tried not to think of the pitifully sad look on Ochako’s face as he closed the door right in it— but he found that it stuck in his memory for the next three days until he came to the library again. 

She had some determination; he would give her that. She found him in his little nook, leaning his chair back on two legs as he pored over another law book— one that had a blue binding, Eijirou had told him. He didn’t even notice her approaching until he heard the soft tap of a cup, and he looked up to see her standing there, smiling pleasantly as she slid a black coffee towards him. 

“You’re a diligent student, I see. Studying pre-law?” she observed with a point at the book cover. Katsuki snorted, half-debating ignoring her again and rejecting the coffee, but he was running on empty. Why refuse free caffeine? Though he loathed small talk, he supposed he could entertain her for a few minutes, as thanks.

“Yeah,” he answered as he picked up the cup and sipped at the steaming hot beverage. The tension melted from his shoulders as the robust flavor of the roasted beans hit his tongue; it wasn’t long after that the caffeine kicked in, giving his dulled senses and attention a nice buzz. He noticed Ochako slip into the seat opposite him, continuing to smile with those big brown eyes of hers sparkling. He saw the purple planet charm— Saturn, he realized— sitting atop her backpack, so he pointed to it. 

“Astronomy?” 

“Aerospace engineering.” 

Katsuki released an appreciative whistle. He hadn’t expected that of the bubbly girl, and despite his reservations, he had to respect her challenging curriculum. She puffed out her chest with a prideful grin and continued, “I want to design rockets!” 

“A space case for a rocket scientist. That’s perfect,” he snorted with laughter, making Ochako puff out her cheeks in defiance. Now that he noticed, they looked so soft and round… He almost had the urge to pinch them and feel how squishy they were.  _ Almost _ . 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a little spacey, but it doesn’t matter as long as I can solve the equations, does it?” she retorted haughtily. Katsuki shook his head, muttering a “Guess not,” and she reclined in her seat with a satisfied smirk. Katsuki’s crimson eyes fell back to the law book he was osmosing, and he could see her watching him intently above the tops of the thick pages. “What do you want to do?” she asked slowly. She seemed to be getting the hint that he didn’t want to be bothered for long, but there was a stubborn glint in her eyes. 

“Prosecute,” he quipped, not looking up at her. 

“Wow! That’s an ambitious goal. It takes a lot to be a government prosecutor.” 

“Yeah, it does— a lot of  _ studying _ , which, if you don’t mind, I would like to get back to,” he huffed with more venom than he meant. A strange sinking feeling washed over him as he watched the girl sink a little into her chair and her smile fold down at the edges. Silently, she got up and slipped her backpack on, mumbling a half-hearted “see you later.” As she began to leave, he cleared his throat. 

“Thanks for the coffee,” he added with a frustrating heat rising to his cheeks. Ochako glanced at the half-empty cup, then back to him— and her smile returned a little sliver. 

The next time they ran into each other, he was in line to get coffee again. She came in afluster, face scrunched as she pored over a notebook scrawled with mathematical equations; she was so absorbed in her calculations that she didn’t notice Katsuki standing in front of her, nor that he ordered an Irish cream and hazelnut coffee with extra cream in sugar. As he turned around, she shuffled forward thinking he had exited the line and bumped right into his chest. Her round cheeks pinkened and she looked up to squeak out an apology, but it died in her throat when she noticed it was him. 

Wordlessly, he held out the coffee to her. 

“To pay you back for the other day,” he explained as she took it, looking at him like he’d given her a ring instead of an iced coffee. She hid her bashful smile behind the white lid, slowly turning her body from side-to-side. As they moved out of line, he gestured to the messy array of numbers and letters on the pages. “What’s that? Looks intense.” 

“It’s an extra credit assignment. If we solve this equation, we get ten bonus points on midterms… But it’s presenting quite a challenge,” she groaned as she scratched at her scalp with the end of her pencil. Smiling, Katsuki pulled out a chair for her and she automatically sank down, her brown eyes never leaving the paper. It was kind of cute, the way her eyebrows scrunched together and her lips poked out in a thoughtful pout. Katsuki found himself softening as he gazed at her; though it definitely looked like a challenging problem, the sparkle in her eyes indicated that she was rather enjoying it. 

He  _ liked  _ that. 

_ Wait a minute,  _ he realized, his train of thought derailing and veering off a canyonside. The gears turning in his brain threatened to overheat and spin out of control as he considered what he had just actually thought. Him, liking Ochako? No. No, no, no. That wasn’t possible. Katsuki didn’t do love, he didn’t do dating, he didn’t do soulmates. 

“Good luck with your problem. I gotta go,” he blurted, using his hand to hide the blush creeping onto his face. Ochako looked up with a confused gasp, but he was already marching out the door. Dimly, he could hear her meekly call, “Thanks for the coffee…” 

As he stalked down the sidewalk, oblivious to the cloudy gray sky and the pattering rain beginning to sprinkle down from the heavens to dye the white sidewalk a deep slate, Katsuki’s mind was whirling. He tugged at his ash-blond strands of hair with a deep, guttural growl. He couldn’t like Ochako. He  _ wouldn’t  _ like Ochako. He’d always sworn that he’d never fall into that trap; he’d never take stock into that soulmate bullshit. It was just his subconscious; it  _ had  _ to be! He didn’t have a crush on her. It was just the internalization of all that soulmate propaganda trying to trick him into thinking he  _ had  _ to like her. 

Right? He didn’t like Ochako. He didn’t like her sweet soft voice, or her warm brown eyes, or her big broad toothy smile her rosy round cheeks complimented so well. He didn’t find that little purple Saturn charm endearing, nor the way she pushed her fingers together when she was nervous, nor her little thoughtful pout and scrunched brows. He didn’t. He couldn’t. He  _ wouldn’t _ . 

Katsuki stopped walking. He tipped his head up to stare defeatedly up at the cloudy gray sky. Gray. He hated that color now. It reminded him of a time when the world was just that— gray and lifeless and dull. Just Katsuki and his law books, all in monochrome. 

Now the sky was blue, and so were the bluebirds nesting in the eaves of his dorm. Now the grass was green, as were the leaves that rustled in the trees lining the walking track by the gym. Now the sun was yellow, like the buttercups growing in front of the library. Katsuki’s eyes were red, like Eijirou’s spiky red hair and the apples he insisted on crunching on every morning though Katsuki hated the sound. Now grapes were purple, like Ochako’s glittery Saturn planet charm. 

Now hearts were pink, just like Ochako’s warm, squishable, cute little cheeks. If Katsuki had to pick what color love was, it would be pink. 

He dropped his head down with a sardonic chuckle. The water dripped down from his drenched hair to run down his face in rivulets. Pink, like Katsuki’s face every time he clapped on eyes on that clumsy, space case, chubby-cheeked cutie who happened to be his soulmate. 

Damn it. He was in love with Ochako. 

The slick sidewalk squeaked under his tennis shoe as he whirled on his heel to sprint back to the library. He surprised Ochako as she was walking through the double doors, making her compulsively chuck the notebook forward. She gasped and reached out as it spiraled out into the rain; if it landed in a puddle, the black ink on the pages would bleed into incomprehensible smudges, and she’d never get that extra credit she was working so hard to earn. Katsuki caught it as it sailed over his head, slowly bringing it to his chest to shield it with his body. 

“K-Katsuki?” Ochako asked uncertainly, looking him up and down. He probably looked a sight, clothes and hair soaked from the rain and his chest heaving from the feverish sprint. 

“You wanna know something? The first time I saw you, I couldn’t help but think that your eyes were the most beautiful color,” he whispered. It’s true, he loved the pink shade her cheeks turned— but nothing compared to that warm chocolatey brown that sucked him in and embraced him in warmth. 

“I… I thought you didn’t do soulmates,” she swallowed, pushing her fingers together. Katsuki walked forward with a soft smile, holding out the notebook to her. 

“I changed my mind,” he said while reaching up to brush a strand of her soft brown hair out of her face. He then grinned devilishly and pinched her cheek, making her squeak in protest. “Can’t resist ya, Cheeks.” 

“What happened to Space Case?” 

“You’ve been upgraded. Congratulations.” 

Ochako blinked at him, then began laughing. She took the notebook back and hugged it to her chest, airy giggles making her shoulders shake a little. Now that he heard them from Ochako, he supposed those girly giggles weren’t that bad. 

This soulmate thing… He could get used to it. 


	50. It's A Date

Category: Romantic Fluff

Characters: Mina Ashido, Katsuki Bakugo

_ Hey, everyone! It’s finally time for me to release the BakuMina piece I wrote for the Bakugo RarePair Zine! It was an honor to be chosen as a contributor. I hope you all enjoy!  _

**_“I’m here!”_ ** _ -Read, 7:33 p.m. _

Mina pursed her lips as she compulsively scrolled through her messages with Katsuki, subconsciously willing his response to magically appear. To no avail; the three little dots did not materialize on screen. Her belly flip-flopped to propel a wave of nausea up her esophagus. 

To channel the nervous energy boiling inside of her, she slowly turned her shoulders left and right. However, with every car that rumbled down the road and every couple that entered the ritzy dance hall behind her, Mina’s worries mounted. 

_ Did he stand me up?  _ she thought for the hundredth time that evening.  _ I know it’s a pain, but he wouldn’t do that to me. Would he…?  _

Mina had been working at a hero agency for almost a year since her graduation from U.A., much like the rest of her classmates. Professional hero work was hectic, demanding, and emotionally taxing, but Mina wouldn’t trade her career for anything. The bad times just made the good times that much more rewarding. Eight months had passed, and the world was on the cusp of the new year.  _ How time flies,  _ she had thought. 

Mina’s agency had arranged a party for the occasion, renting one of the local dance halls for a sophisticated black-tie evening event. Mina wasn’t  _ required  _ to bring a date, but most of her coworkers were romantically involved. She knew she’d end up a third or fifth or even seventh wheel if she came alone. 

So, Mina had pleaded with nearly every male ex-classmate to be her plus one. Denki was working an undercover mission, so he wasn’t an option. Hanta had patrol that night and couldn’t come. She’d even asked Izuku, but he was currently having dinner with a prospective investor for his future hero agency. Fate seemed to have other plans because Mina had run down the males of their class roster (sans Mineta), and  _ all  _ of them were legitimately bust.

That left Katsuki. 

Mina had initially not asked Katsuki, for a multitude of reasons ranging from rational to a bit… personal. First and foremost, his gut reaction would be, “Why the hell would I go to some stupid party?” He’d always despised these events, which he pointedly summarized as “ass-kissin’ wastes of time.” 

On top of that… Mina  _ may _ have developed a major crush on the boy in high school, pined over him for three years without ever doing anything about it, and shoved the feelings deep, deep down inside herself so they would never see the light of day. 

Except then, this New Year’s party came. Once Mina realized it was either ask Katsuki to be her date or show up alone like a loser, all those old feelings had surged back up like a tidal wave. It crashed over her to drown her in a cascade of longing, nervousness, defeat, and an annoying bit of  _ hope _ . Desperate and probably a little bit manic, Mina had beseeched Katsuki to be her date. It had taken some convincing, but he’d finally relented when she’d called him in tears. 

_ “All right, Pinky, stop yer cryin’! I’ll be there.” _

In hindsight, Mina should’ve accepted Katsuki’s offer to pick her up at her apartment. However, he would have had to pass the venue to retrieve her, and she would have  _ died  _ if she had to sit next to him in a car for twenty minutes in awkward silence and failed attempts at small talk—so she’d refused him.  _ With the way this is going, he might not have picked me up anyway.  _

Pouting, she shot him another text.  **_Are you on your way?_ ** She waited a few seconds; there wasn’t even a read receipt. 

Huffing, she stuffed her smartphone into her purse and crossed her arms with an angry pout. She impatiently shifted her weight from one foot to the other, watching through narrowed eyes as well-dressed couples strolled into the venue. Waiting on his reply only heightened her anxieties, so she needed to find an alternate method of passing the time. 

Mina began to fiddle with the ruffled hem of her party dress. As the traffic rolled down the road, the light beams from the cars’ headlights reflected off the material’s red glitter, making Mina’s skirt shine and glimmer like rubies. She pouted at the sheer fabric overlaying the satin body of the dress. 

_ I wore red because I thought it would match his outfit,  _ she moped.  _ And his eyes,  _ a mocking little voice trilled in her head. Despite the sheer pantyhose embracing her legs, the chill winter wind made easy work of raising goosebumps on her skin—but her face burned as her subconscious betrayed her. 

Mina hurriedly quashed such thoughts like a bug underfoot, concentrating on whatever else she could—which happened to be the rapidly dwindling temperature. She shivered in the cold, rubbing her arms as she looked both ways down the sidewalk. There was still no sign of the volatile blond.  _ Katsuki…  _

Mina jumped as a car engine suddenly revved. Her eyes widened to see a sleek red Maserati swing into the parallel parking spot right in front of her. Mina couldn’t see through the tinted windows, and wondered if it was just some miscreant attempting to entice her for a ‘night on the town.’ 

Her jaw nearly struck the concrete when the driver’s side door flipped open, and a shock of ash-blond hair appeared over the top of the sports car.  _ Katsuki? No way! How could he afford a car like this after less than a year?! _

“Oi,” Katsuki greeted smugly as he swung the door closed and gave her a head-nod. “I told ya I’d be here, so why the hell did you spam my phone, Pinky? You didn’t think I’d bail, didja?” Mina’s cheeks flushed in shame because he’d hit the nail on the head. He snorted as he strolled around the front of his car, hands shoved into the pockets of his black slacks. “Idiot. I promised I’d be here. I’m not that much of an asshole.” 

“I know,” she sighed and scratched the back of her head. Her attention soon returned to the sports car.  _ There’s  _ **_no_ ** _ way… Wait a minute… I’ve seen this car before.  _ “Katsuki. Did you borrow your mom’s car for this?” she snorted, holding a hand over her mouth as she sneered audaciously. Katsuki shot her his characteristic scowl, pink gums peeking out below white teeth. 

“Laugh it up, Pinky—you know you  _ love  _ the attention you’re getting right now.” 

It was true. Several bystanders ogled at Katsuki approaching her from the ruby-red Maserati. They cast fervid glances as they whispered excitedly to one another. Mina found herself definitely relishing the implications. The fierce blush then returned to her face as she agonized over the idea that they thought of her and Katsuki as a  _ couple _ . 

It didn’t help when he stepped over the curb and into the lamplight. His bright red dress shirt accented his well-earned muscles spectacularly, and the deep midnight black of his vest hugged his chest in all the right ways. Katsuki glanced down at himself before flashing her a satisfied smirk. “Like what ya see, Pinky?” 

Mina was thankful she stood outside the circle of yellow light spilling from the lamppost because he couldn’t see her blushing. With a huff, she lunged forward to grab his hand and yanked him forward. 

“You’ll do. Now let’s go! We’re almost late.” Mina ignored Katsuki’s angry protests as she all but dragged him up the steps and into the dance hall. Asserting herself allowed her to once more throw those meddlesome emotions on the backburner—for the moment, at least. 

As soon as they stepped through the glass doors, they were greeted by upbeat tango music from the string quartet in the corner. The spacious dance hall allowed the agency employees plenty of room to mingle. Clusters of people dotted the dance floor’s smooth expanse and surrounding lounge area. A mini-bar hugged the far left corner, and many individuals were already a few cocktails deep; their airy laughter floated on the waves to join the soft music and the hum of polite conversation. 

Katsuki sniffed in disdain. 

“Man, what a crock. I’m bored already.”

Mina stuck her tongue in her cheek as a clear sign of her disapproval. Frustration bubbled up in her gut, tearing at her insides with sharp, savage claws to score bleeding fissures into her insides.  _ He’s starting already? _

Katsuki’s vermillion eyes slid to her pouting face, and he huffed. “Tch… Well, Pinky? You gonna just stand there or are you gonna introduce me to your boss? Why’d you recruit me as arm candy for the evening and not show me off?” 

Mina glanced up at him with knitted eyebrows to find him staring blankly down at her, with the strangest glint of seriousness burning in the red pools of his eyes.  _ Is he… Trying to apologize?  _ Mina wasn’t quite sure, but she would proceed as if he was. Giggling girlishly, she yanked on his arm to pull him into the throng of heroes and sidekicks. 

Katsuki remained strangely quiet as Mina made her rounds to schmooze with the appropriate higher-ups and introduce them to Katsuki. He wasn’t in his hero uniform, and so no one recognized him as a standout up-and-coming professional hero, which greatly begrudged him. 

“Stupid extras. I can’t believe they have no clue who I am. They think I’m just some schmuck!” the blond grumbled loudly before downing the glass of punch he was gripping with almost too much strength. 

“Hey! This is about me looking good, not  _ you _ !” she scolded playfully and shoved him lightly in the shoulder. She couldn’t help but release a small “Whoa!” when her hand met the rock-solid muscle of his biceps. Grinning, she gave his arm a firm squeeze. “Wow, Katsuki, you’re such a beefcake.” 

A faint haze of pink blazed over his cheeks, and he squinted suspiciously down into the punch, “Did someone spike this shit?” 

Mina laughed and slapped his arm, tickled by his comment. Of course, there was no alcohol in the fruity concoction, but Mina’s body still hummed with contentment and ease. Though they’d gotten off to a rocky start, the evening had proceeded swimmingly, with Mina earning a lot of praise from her superiors concerning her performance over the last eight months. Suppressing her romantic feelings had grown easier throughout the night as Katsuki entertained her, his usually foul mood undermined by his subtle dedication to making her look good for her employers. 

Mina was in a good mood, and Mina in a good mood was an  _ insufferable  _ tease. 

“Relax! I’m only messing with you,” Mina chuckled and patted the area of his arm she’d just slapped. She finished the rest of her drink and set the glass down and then looked around, finding herself suddenly unsatisfied with lounging around the bar. She hopped down on her seat and tugged insistently on Katsuki’s arm. “Hey! Let’s go dance!” 

Katsuki scowled his characteristic grimace that bared his gums and looked in disdain at the dance floor. Now that the night was winding down, most of the attendees had retired to the round, covered tables ringing the area or even elected to leave the party altogether. 

Before he could refuse, Mina hugged his thick arm and propped her chin on his shoulder to flutter her eyelashes demurely at him. “Pleaaaaaase? You’re my date, you know. At least act like it a little bit.” 

A bit more bitterness than she intended seeped into her tone. Mina found herself blushing in slight embarrassment, but did not attempt to explain the edge to her voice. She knew those damned feelings were drudging back up again, tainting her judgement. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

Katsuki hadn’t complained openly since arriving, but Mina could sense he wasn’t having fun. His expression was far away and distant whenever she wasn’t directly addressing him, his posture stiff and guarded, his tone laced with an air of indifference and edge. Mina had attempted to sequester all her adverse reactions to his irritability in the back of her mind, but it seemed they were now too strong to contain entirely. 

Her eyes glimmered with a silent plea.  _ Please act like you want to be here with me. Even if you have to pretend, please act like you care about me just a little bit, Katsuki.  _

“Tch. Just one,” he relented after a moment’s consideration. Mina’s eyelashes fluttered rapidly, for she was surprised he agreed so readily. Her grip loosened around his arm as he slid down from the seat, and he gave her a curious look. He then sneered challengingly. “What is it, Pinky? No longer interested?” 

Mina immediately poofed out her cheeks indignantly and snatched up his wrists so she could cart him onto the sleek tiled floor. Katsuki was surprisingly docile, smoothly gliding after her as she tugged him onto the middle of the dance floor. A few people glanced over from their seats at the tables, eyebrows raising slightly in curiosity. Mina wouldn’t usually mind an audience, but once she realized she and Katsuki were the only ones in the middle of the room, her cheeks reddened. 

“Um…” 

“What?” Katsuki mocked cockily. “Suddenly getting stage fright,  _ sweetheart _ ?” 

Mina released a little gasp at the pet name. 

Katsuki’s grin continued to widen as he closed the distance between them to smoothly plant his hands on her hips. “What? You told me to act like your  _ date _ . I’m just following orders,” he teased, bringing his face so close that the tips of their noses bumped. 

Mina’s body burned with a confusing fire of shame, excitement, and embarrassment. Momentarily, she considered that perhaps she’d made a mistake; Katsuki ignored her mounting anxiety, grabbing her wrists to bring both of them to his shoulders when she refused to move, stiff as a board. 

“Katsukiiiii,” she whined quietly. Her face burned the color of tomato, uncomfortable waves of heat rolling off every inch of her skin. Katsuki continued to sneer jeeringly at her, a perfect combination of infuriating and sexy. He nudged her knees to entice her to move, and Mina’s subconscious lulled her into the autonomous movements while her waking mind struggled to process how the tables so suddenly turned. The soft, melodic music guided her motions, while her eyes remained fixated on Katsuki’s smoldering vermillion irises. 

“Hey,” the blond said suddenly. 

Mina’s eyelashes fluttered as she took a few moments to process he’d even addressed her. His red eyes continued to bore into her, stripping her down layer by layer until all that remained was her quivering soul. 

The muscles in his neck flexed as he cocked his head to the side slightly. “What the hell was going through your head asking all those other extras before me?” Mina’s lips curled in on themselves as a cold rush of guilt and shame flooded through her arteries. “Seriously?” he pressed. “One step up from  _ Mineta _ ? What the fuck?” 

“I…” As her mouth grew incredibly dry, her words failed her. Katsuki continued guiding her through the steps of the slow dance, but she could feel his muscles tensing and the growing harshness of his movements. “I just… didn’t want you to get weird thoughts or something, since we’re so close!” she lied lamely. “Like… it was a date, or something.” 

Katsuki remained dangerously quiet. Mina hyperfocused on the clacking of her heels against the sleek tile floor as he maneuvered her through the dance moves. Suddenly, she felt his muscles softening again, and a light blush blazed over his cheeks. 

“That’s what it could be, ya know.  _ A date _ .” 

Mina gawked stupidly at him for a few seconds, just flabbergasted. Her mouth repeatedly opened and shut as her already goopy brain jellified completely. After a painfully long time, a single thought rose to the surface of the confusing haze.  _ Does Katsuki… Actually  _ **_like_ ** _ me?  _ For once, Katsuki didn’t quip something smart but allowed Mina to slot the puzzle pieces together slowly. 

“Is that… what you’d like it to be?” 

Katsuki shrugged indifferently, trying to play it off, but he couldn’t hide the growing redness in his face or how his gaze drifted to some point over her shoulder to avoid meeting her surprised, inquisitive stare. 

“Would I have brought it up if I didn’t, dumbass?” 

Mina blinked, and then her facial muscles reacted to the tingling spreading through her nerves, pulling into a coquettish smile. Katsuki’s blush darkened as she leaned forward to press her chest into his, the tip of her nose tickling his heated cheek. For a moment she wondered if she’d strayed into a dream. 

Katsuki’s vermillion eyes flickered to her, gazing at her through his peripheral vision as she just smiled happily. “What? You gonna say somethin’?” 

Let it be a  _ wonderful  _ dream, then. 

“Let’s call it a date.”

Katsuki’s head whirled back to her, cocking back a little to avoid smacking her with his skull as he righted himself. Mina’s heart fluttered at the sappy smile that briefly appeared on his chiseled features before that cocky smirk wormed its way back in. 

“All right, then. It’s a date.” His large hands rolled to the small of her back to pull her body flush against his. 

Mina returned the intimate gesture by circling her arms around his neck, fingers toying with the ends of his ash-blond hair. As if drawn by a magnet, their faces drew closer until Katsuki’s lips softly brushed over hers. Mina’s heart sung as her eyes fluttered shut, and she savored the gliding motions of Katsuki’s mouth like she was kissing fine silk. Distantly, she wondered why on Earth she’d ever hesitated to confess her feelings to him in the first place. 

They kept on dancing long after everyone had gone home, lost in one another’s eyes and synchronous heartbeats. 


	51. Song of the Sea

Category: General Fluff

Characters: Eri, Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada

Eri jumped as her bedroom door burst open, followed by a very familiar voice announcing, “Hey, hey, stop what you’re doing, because we’re going to the beach  _ todaaaaaayyy _ !” 

“The beach?” Eri said owlishly as she looked up from her tea table, where she was currently pouring imaginary tea for the myriad of stuffed animals seated around the small pink furniture. As Present Mic waltzed into her bedroom, wiggling his hips in a giddy little jig, his grin was nearly blinding. 

“That’s right, my dear! Summer is here, and your therapist thought it would be good for you to go out and get some sunshine!” he explained as he crouched down and picked up one of the ceramic cups. He shook it at her, silently demanding to be served, and Eri giggled delightedly as she used the floral-patterned teapot to distribute. Present Mic took a long, exaggerated sip of air, emerald eyes glittering playfully above the rim of the cup before he pulled it away from his lip with a loud, satisfied sigh. “Delicious! Anyway,” he said, bopping her on the nose as she continued to snicker, “How does that sound?” 

“I’ve never been to the beach before,” Eri considered, cocking her head to the side. From what she knew of the beach, it was supposed to be an enjoyable place indeed. Ever since being rescued from Overhaul’s clutches, she had been making considerable efforts to come out of her shell and do things that normal little girls did. A smile spread across her face as she imagined the rolling waves cresting on pristine white sands, tasting the salty sea breeze and feeling the sun kissing her skin. “Yeah! That sounds really fun!” she agreed with an emphatic nod. 

“Wonderful!” Present Mic trilled and clapped his hands together. “Let’s go, then!” 

“Wait, right now?” Eri squeaked in surprise as he hopped to his feet. She looked hesitantly at her array of stuffed animals. “But I haven’t finished the tea party.” It would be very rude of her to leave her guests wanting tea and snack cakes. 

“Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Present Mic tutted, smacking himself in the forehead. “How rude of me! Scoot Mr. Teddy over so I can enjoy some tea too, Eri, dear.” Eri did as he wished, cackling as the tall man wormed his way into one of the wooden chairs, his knees hunched up under his chin. He grabbed one of the chocolate cream-filled pastries and devoured it in nearly one bite, crumbs raining down from his chin. “We’ll finish this first and then go to the beach!” 

Eri nodded eagerly and then proceeded to finish serving her guest, along with the newcomer Present Mic. Eraserhead found them there half an hour later, with his friend loudly regaling Eri’s stuffed bunny rabbit with a story about their high school glory days. Eri was cackling maniacally at his gut-bustingly funny rendition of Eraserhead falling asleep on the school rooftop and getting drenched by a surprise thunderstorm. 

“And he came trudging into class, dripping wet and had to explain—” Present Mic was interrupted as Eraserhead grunted in the doorway. His head whirled on his shoulders to look at the disgruntled teacher with wide emerald eyes. “Oh, hello, Shota.” 

“I thought we were taking Eri to the beach?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, but I had to finish my tea party!” Eri explained with a gesture at her stuffed animals, which all had snack cake-colored stains over their snouts. Eraserhead regarded the myriad of toys with silent consideration before nodding understandingly. 

“Right. Of course. Are you done now?” 

“Yes, I think so.” At her confirmation, Present Mic jumped up with a triumphant yowl, throwing his hands in the air. 

“ _ Yeeeeeeeaaaahhhh _ ! Beach time, beach time! Oh, Shota, did you bring it? Did you bring it?” Present Mic pestered as he zoomed up to Eraserhead and tugging elatedly on his shirt. The dark-haired hero scowled and shoved him away with an irritated, “Yes, yes, now get off!” Eri blinked confusingly as Present Mic bristled with excitement in the corner, and Eraserhead procured a plastic bag to fish something out of it. “If we’re going to the beach, you need a swimsuit,” he explained simply as he handed her the clothing item. 

Eri turned it over in her hands, eyes widening. It was a beautiful one-piece; three rows of red ruffles crossed the bust area diagonally, with strings coming up to tie around the back of her neck and others crisscrossing over where her shoulder blades would be. The rest of the fabric was creamy white and patterned with apples, complete with little stems and green leaves. As she admired the cute bathing suit, Present Mic dashed over, tucking his fists under his chin as he practically vibrated with excitement. 

“Do you like it?! Oh, when we saw it, we just knew it would look super cute!” 

“Mic, that’s gross.” 

“Eh? What’s the point of having an adorable daughter without dolling her up for the world to see?!” 

“Mic, she’s not your daughter.” 

“She might as well be!” Present Mic protested, hugging Eri close. As her cheek squished into his chest, Eri smiled sweetly and looked up at him. 

“I love it! Can I go put it on?” 

“Of course, of course!” Present Mic trilled, pushing her past Eraserhead to the hallway bathroom. “And while you get ready, Shota and I will get everything ready for our super-duper awesome day at the beach!  _ Yeeaaaaaaaaaah _ !” 

Eri had to giggle at his enthusiasm; she found herself thoroughly hyped for the new adventure as he shut the bathroom door behind her and dragged Eraserhead off to prepare all the necessary items. She wormed out of her clothes and slipped into the bathing suit, careful not to tangle the strings as she tied them around her neck. It took a few tries as she was too short to use the mirror, so she had to fumble underneath her silvery hair to secure the knot. Eri felt pretty accomplished when she managed to do so without asking for the adults’ help. As soon as she unlocked the door and opened it back up, Present Mic was standing there in a muscle tee and a pair of yellow shorts with rainbow music notes all over them, a towel around his neck and that same grin on his face. 

“Kyaaaaaa! Shota, isn’t she the most adorable thing ever?” he howled with delight. Eraserhead, sporting a gray tee and some plain black swim trunks, lowered his shades to inspect Eri critically. Though he lifted his sunglasses before grunting his approval, she could see some color rise to his cheeks. Present Mic scurried over to secure her hair into a set of pigtails before ushering her to the door. “We’re gonna have so much fun! Ah, wait, wait, wait,” he said as she stepped out of the door. When she looked back in bewilderment, he was whipping out his cellphone. “Say cheese! I have to show everyone how cute Eri looks on her first day at the beach!” 

Eri reflexively smiled, wincing as the camera flash momentarily blinded her. Present Mic snickered to himself as his fingers flew across the keyboard, probably posting the picture everywhere it could be seen. That is until Eraserhead booted him out the doorway, causing Present Mic to yelp and rub his bum with a pout at his friend. Eraserhead just trudged past him, carrying a beach bag full of towels and other assorted items to the car. Eri tottered along after him, pigtails swinging with each trot. As she climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in, she peered curiously into the bag; before she could get a good look, Eraserhead reached back from the driver’s seat to close it. 

“You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?” he winked. Eri slumped a little as she was playfully admonished, but a surprise  _ did  _ sound fun. 

She obediently refrained from peeking during the ride. It became the furthest thing from her mind anyway as they neared the shore; she sat up in the seat to stare at the expanse of blue stretching along the horizon, red eyes wide as they behold the white rolling waves and even whiter rolling dunes. Colorful umbrellas and towels dotted the landscape. Beachgoers lounged in the shade reading books and listening to portable radios, played in the wet sand moistened by the tide, or frolicked in the surf, tossing balls and playing with inflatables. Eri bounced up and down, growing so excited that a little squeal bubbled out of her throat. When she looked impatiently to the front compartment of the car, both Eraserhead and Present Mic were smiling happily at her out of the corners of their eyes. 

As soon as they parked, Eri jumped out of the car to dash to the sand. She hopped off the boardwalk into the grainy stuff, gasping as her bare feet sank into the warm grains. She wiggled her toes, appreciating the way the sand moved around her feet like fluid. She then jumped up and down with a squeal, throwing up the fine sand all around her. 

“The beach! The beach!” she chanted, turning in a circle as she stamped around. Eraserhead chuckled as he walked up behind her, carrying an umbrella and two fold-out chairs over his shoulder. 

“Having fun already, kiddo? Wait until you see the water.” 

Eri gasped, whirling around so hard she lost her balance and bumped into Eraserhead’s legs. She could hear the waves rolling beyond the dunes, crashing and frothing. She ran up the side of the dune, grunting as she sunk deep into the sand, to clamber up to the top. She immediately sucked in a breath as the water came into view and the salty breeze hit her nose; it looked ethereal, the way the water rushed in and out, spraying up sea foam as it sank into the sand. Squeals of children and pleasant conversation floated on the breeze, creating a symphony of revelry on the tune of the ocean. 

“Wowwww…” she breathed exultantly, looking up at Eraserhead and Present Mic as they came walking up the dune. “We’re really gonna spend the day here?” It almost seemed too good to be true; tears of gratitude and joy welled up in her eyes as she looked back to the gently crashing waves. In the deep dungeons of Overhaul’s compound, she could only dream of the ocean. Now here it was, right before her very eyes, close enough to touch. 

“Of course,” Eraserhead smiled. He adjusted his grip on the chairs and umbrella before extending his hand to her. “Let me put this stuff down, and then we’ll go into the water, okay?” Eri nodded without looking at him, spellbound by the push-and-pull of the waves, but she reached for his hand on instinct. It wrapped around her small one, tough and calloused and warm, and led her down the side of the sand dune to the beach. Eraserhead left Present Mic to set up the chairs and umbrellas as he led Eri to the shoreline, where she stopped hesitantly in front of the water. The back-and-forth crashes almost seemed intimidating, now; surely, those waves could suck her right in and spirit her away into the great dark unknown. With a small whimper, she hugged Eraserhead’s leg and tugged at the ruffles of her bathing suit. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t let you go anywhere,” Eraserhead chuckled warmly and gave her back an encouraging pat. She clutched tight to his hand as she tentatively inched up to the waterline. As a wave came rolling up, foaming and dumping seashells into the wet sand, she dipped her foot into the water. She squealed and retracted it, giddy with relief. 

“It feels good!” Again, as the wave came cresting up, she edged forward, sticking her whole foot in this time. She laughed at the funny feeling of the bubbles popping against her skin and the water swirling around, making the shells bump against her ankle. She quickly leaned down to scoop up one. It was a cracked scallop shell, but the brown-and-cream patterning was so pretty that she still found herself holding it up to the sun to admire it. “So this once had a clam in it?” 

“Yep,” Eraserhead confirmed, taking it from her to look it over. “Now it’s an empty shell. It’s broken, but would you still like to keep it?” 

“Mhmm!” 

Eraserhead whistled to Present Mic, who obediently brought over a bucket that she could drop the shell into. Before she could dive down to get another one, Present Mic tapped her on the head with a tube of something. 

“Eri, let’s put on some sunscreen first, okay?” 

She nodded obediently, and he leaned down, popping open the cap and squeezing a generous amount of the thick white cream into his head. Eri scrunched up her face as he rubbed it all into the skin of her face, then slicked it over her arms, legs, and the bare areas of her back. She grimaced at first because it made her feel gross and sticky, but she tolerated it because she knew it would make him sad if she objected. 

The two men crouched beside her as she weaved her hands through the sloshing surf to catch the shells fluttering up from the deep, picking ones she liked to keep. She spent a good fifteen minutes there while the two looked on until Present Mic cleared his throat. 

“Eri, would you like to go swimming?” 

She straightened up, salty water dripping from her hands. 

“Oh, but I don’t know how to swim…” she said with a longing look out at the sea. It certainly looked fun and refreshing. She glanced back when Eraserhead chuckled and patted her on the head. 

“Don’t worry. We have floats for you.” As he said it, Present Mic approached, blowing up the second of a pair of strange-looking inflatables of transparent red plastic. Eraserhead dipped them in the water before sliding them up her arms, nestling them near her armpits. She flapped her arms up and down, giggling at the weird feeling of the plastic rubbing against her skin, and then watched as Eraserhead straightened up and offered her his hand again. Eri’s heart hummed with happiness as she reached up to take it, marveling at how strong yet soft it felt. 

Even with all the people around, there hadn’t been a moment yet that Eri felt nervous because she always felt safe with Eraserhead. She wasn’t daunted in the least as he helped her wade out into the surf, the sand squishing beneath her toes and the salt spray lapping at her upper body and face because she knew that he’d never let her be dragged away. As she went deep enough to have to tip her head back, she lifted up her legs and began wildly kicking her legs. The floaties kept her buoyant on the waves, and she bobbed in a circle around his legs, occasionally bumping into him as she panted with effort. 

“I’m swimming!” she screeched with delight, laughing as a wave pushed her up against his thighs. Eraserhead smirked as he pushed her a foot away, keeping a hold of her ankle. Eri squealed as she rolled onto her back and drifted on the sloshing water. “Mic, Mic, look!” she called to the blond as he came wading out into the water, his long hair piled into a bun atop his head. At that moment, a wave crashed over the back of her head, drenching her entirely. 

“Ah! Eri, dear, are you all right?” Present Mic exclaimed and raced toward her at the speed of an Olympic swimmer. 

“Ugh, you’re such a mother hen,” Eraserhead grunted as he calmly tugged the sputtering and coughing Eri close. “You okay?” he then asked, eyebrows pinched together. Eri flipped her dripping silver bangs out of her eyes, blinking rapidly as the salt stung, and sucked in a breath. After gathering her thoughts, she began laughing happily. 

“I got wet,” she snickered. Present Mic deflated in relief before scooping her up to mount her on his shoulders. Her squeals of happiness bounded up to join the caws of the seabirds as Present Mic roared and charged the waves, kicking at them on the pretense of defending Eri from the sea. She clutched onto his head as she kicked her little feet too, although that high up, she could only nab some of the bubbly froth spraying up. 

After about an hour of playing in the water, Eri retreated back inland to build a sandcastle. They decorated it with the shells she found, as well as bits of kelp and some driftwood. Present Mic declared her the queen of the castle and slapped a seaweed crown on her head; it felt really gross and slimy, so she chucked it at him on instinct, and Eraserhead started guffawing when it slapped across Present Mic’s face like an enormous mustache. 

As she was watching a hermit crab scuttle across the sand, a large yawn split her face. She reached up to rub her eye with her knuckles, smearing sand and salt particles over her eyebrow. 

“Tired, kiddo?” Eraserhead asked with a lopsided smile. She nodded and stood up to toddle over and hug his legs. He affectionately tousled her hair, which was dry and tangly from the salty water. Present Mic came up behind her to wrap her in a pink floral-patterned towel, and Eraserhead picked her up to carry her to their chairs and umbrellas. As he reclined in one of the fold-out chairs with a long sigh, she snuggled into his neck, playing with the ends of his long black hair. 

“Did you have fun?” he asked as she smiled sleepily up at him. 

“Mhmm,” she nodded and then yawned loudly again. As she nuzzled into him, enjoying the way the scent of salt mingled with the smell of his cologne, she quietly asked, “Can we come again sometime?” 

“Sure.” 

“Can Deku and Lemillion come too?” 

“Sure. I’m sure they’d love to.” 

Satisfied, Eri closed her eyes, embracing the drowsiness threatening to overtake her system. She listened to the rhythmic roll of the waves and the rush of the wind and the squawks of the seabirds and the symphony of shouts and laughs riding the wind. It really was a  _ beautiful  _ sound. As she sank into the sweet twilight of sleep, she found herself reminded again of all the heroes who risked their all to save her from the deep dark of the underground yakuza compound. 

_ Thanks to them… I can listen to the beach anytime I want to. Thank you… My  _ **_heroes_ ** _ …  _


	52. What You Deserve

Category: Romantic Fluff

Characters: Keigo Takami, Fuyumi Todoroki

Keigo tilted his head back slightly as he adjusted the golden necktie situated in the collar of his clean, pressed white dress shirt. After he wrangled the accessory into the perfect position, he dropped his left arm to his side, hand slapping against the black slacks framing his legs. His right arm raised to his head so he could tease his fingers through the gel-slicked chunks of his wavy blonde hair. His fingertips scored grooves between the sticky tresses, making him look just disheveled enough to be alluring. Through lidded eyes, he beheld his reflection for a few minutes. Then he smirked, clicked his tongue, and pointed finger-guns at himself. 

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” he encouraged himself. With a self-satisfied chuckle, he sauntered out of the bathroom into his lofty bedroom in his even loftier studio apartment. He trotted over to the bed, swiping his wallet off the dark brown nightstand. As he shoved it into his back pocket, he glanced at the other article situated on the nightstand, a framed photograph of himself and his girlfriend. The image of the beautiful woman, beaming broadly with her slim arms wound around his neck while she playfully pressed a kiss to his cheek, brought a soft smile to his lips. Keigo swiped the simple black ring box from beside the photo frame, throwing it up and the air and catching it before burying it into the pocket of his black suit jacket. 

“Hopefully, by the end of the night, Fuyumi’ll be my fiancé!” he trilled excitedly. The thought of Fuyumi's face morphing through rapid emotions— confusion, shock, sheer unbridled joy— made Keigo's heart flutter like the first flappings of his fledgling crimson wings. An elated blush blazed a trail across his cheeks as he compulsively turned the box in his pockets with his fingers. He loved Fuyumi more than he ever thought possible to love someone, so the possibility that she could refuse him never even crossed his mind. 

The bounce in his step swayed in his body as he sauntered over to the massive floor-to-ceiling window framing the southern wall of his living room. Keigo flipped a small latch on the edge of the window and pressed on the sleek glass panel; it swung open without a sound to allow the gushing wind to swirl in. The gale fluttered the pages of the male fashion magazine resting on his coffee table, filling the penthouse apartment with a pleasant ruffling noise. Keigo inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh, crisp air spilling into the apartment. City air certainly wasn't the most pleasant aroma, but Keigo always found it more preferable than the stifling, bland, recycled air of his home. Perhaps, the rushing of the wind titillated his senses, making everything seem grander than it was. 

Keigo closed his eyes and spread his arms wide, tilting back his head like a man standing before the precipice of salvation. He pushed his weight forward onto his toes, and gradually his body followed suit; it seemed like the wind embraced him like a mother embracing her child, gushing around him to tug him into the chasm. The sound of her wails exploded in Keigo's ears as he plummeted across the threshold, the wind shrieking as it rushed past his body. 

He fell for several seconds, peering at the blurred streaks of lights around him through slitted eyes before he unfurled his massive ruby-red wings. The updraft yanked him several yards up, and soon he was coasting comfortably above the busy nighttime road, flapping leisurely as he flew towards the woman of his dreams. He followed the skyscrapers like signposts, having long since memorized the layout that would land him at Fuyumi’s front door. Their mirror-glass surfaces reflected his feathered form gliding amongst the stars, though the giddy smile adorning his lips was the brightest by far. 

He landed in her front yard with little more than a rustle of feathers. The grass crunched lightly under his dress shoes as he quietly strolled to the front door. Before knocking, he gave himself a once-over, smoothing down the creases in his clothes. He patted his pocket, smiling in relief when he felt the solid mass of the ring box in his pocket.  _ Still there. Losing it mid-flight would’ve been quite the disaster.  _

He paused mid-knock when a flicker of movement registered in his peripheral vision; his keen avian eyes instinctively followed the motion to Fuyumi’s bedroom window, where the curtains fluttered in the open window. Beyond, Fuyumi sat at her vanity, drawing a brush through her beautiful red-streaked hair. A wordless melody floated from her mouth as a smile danced accompaniment on her glossed lips. Keigo admired the simple movement of her body, graced by fluid ruffles of the silky red gown sitting low on her shoulders, and found himself falling head-over-heels all over again. 

Keigo forwent knocking on the door, using his giant wings to spirit him to the sill of the ajar window. Why waste such a perfectly obvious invitation. He perched himself on the white wood, hunched underneath the raised pane, and watched the oblivious Fuyumi continue to get ready. The ruby-red dress really was  _ stunning  _ on her, hugging her curvaceous figure in all the right ways and showing a daring cut of her collarbones. Keigo found himself admiring the view, his feathers vibrating a little with desire. If the night went well, he might find himself up-close and personal with the smooth, silky fabric and the gorgeous body hidden just underneath it. 

Before Keigo’s thoughts could stray further into debauchery, he cleared his throat loudly. 

“O-oh?’ Fuyumi gasped, her wide eyes flying to the window where Keigo perched. It took her a second to register his presence, her eyelashes fluttering wildly, before the heat of embarrassment and mild indignance rose to her pale cheeks. “ _ Keigo _ ! You nearly frightened me to death!” she scolded, slumping into her vanity chair with a hand splayed over her likely pounding heart. 

“Not to worry, love, I know mouth-to-mouth,” Keigo joked as he languidly slid off the seat. His feathers rustled as they brushed past the sides of the window, his large wings barely fitting through. Fuyumi shot him a sordid glare that was betrayed by the grin rising on her lips. Unable to stay angry with Keigo for more than a full minute, she practically fell into his arms as he sauntered over. “You look beautiful,” he purred softly as he brushed a swathe of her hair from her blushing face. 

“You always say that,” she hummed. She pressed into Keigo’s body like she intended to mold them together, and to be honest, he wouldn’t mind one bit. 

“And I always mean it,” he countered while leaning forward to gently nuzzle the tips of their noses together. Fuyumi’s smile stretched so broadly that her eyes crinkled up at the corners; whenever she smiled like that, his heart never failed to thrum in his chest, like a violin tuned by her joy alone. He grabbed her hand so he could lace their fingers together, gently caressing the pads of her fingertips and her palm before bringing it to his mouth to press a lingering kiss. Fuyumi watched his ministrations with loving eyes— like just these little moments alone were all she lived for. 

“I just need to finish getting ready, and we can go,” she informed him, her tone soft like it was almost a bad thing. Keigo grunted against the top of her hand; he’d gotten so caught up in admiring his gorgeous girlfriend that he’d quite forgotten why he’d stolen into her bedroom in the first place. Giggling as he refused to release his grip, she pulled away from him, arm stretching as he continued to press his lips to her skin. “Kei- _ goooo _ !” she whined with a few good tugs, and he begrudgingly relented. He watched her hips sway as she walked to her jewelry box. It always amazed him how she could be so effortlessly sexy. 

He leaned against her vanity as she retrieved a gold-chained ruby necklace from the box. She fumbled with the clasp for a few seconds, muttering under her breath and trying to use her reflection in the vanity mirror to aid her. Keigo chuckled and sidled over, deft fingers plucking the necklace from her grasp after watching her struggle. Her arms fell to her sides as she allowed him to clasp the necklace for her, but his fingers lingered even after he had accomplished the task, skipping over the smooth skin revealed by the swooping backline of her dress. 

“Keigo—” she started, then sucked in a breath as he leaned in to press an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of her neck. A low whine rose from her throat as he smiled devilishly, reveling in the way her skin began to heat at the lightest brush of his lips. “You’re a tease,” she breathed shakily. 

“Only for you, my darling Fuyumi,” he chuckled lowly. He planted a few more kisses down through the valley between her shoulder blades before straightening back up. “Well, then. Shall we?” he purred nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just gotten the woman in a fluster. Fuyumi snorted and snatched her clutch from the dresser but obediently took his arm as he offered it. 

Keigo took the front door this time, despite the romantic implications of sweeping his beloved off her feet and flying her to her destination. Believe it or not, flapping dress skirts presented quite the hazard (something Keigo found out the hard way when he’d nearly beamed into a light pole during one such impromptu venture). Thus, they opted to drive to their destination like civilized people. Keigo had quite gotten the hang of situating his wings in Fuyumi’s tiny car, though it never failed to make her giggle as he wormed his crimson appendages on either side of the driver’s seat. 

“Stop laughing,” he pouted at her as he shifted the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. She held the knuckle of her index finger to her lips as she laughed, a gesture he’d always found endearing— even when she was laughing  _ at  _ him. 

“I can’t help it! A birdman driving is just  _ so  _ funny.” 

Keigo rolled his eyes and reclined as much as he could in the driver’s seat. One hand rested atop the wheel, smoothly guiding the car through the lanes, while his other reached across the center console to grasp Fuyumi’s hand. He rhythmically rubbed circles into her skin with the pad of his thumb. Fuyumi gazed out the passenger side window; she always did when they went on car rides, admiring the quaint neighborhoods transitioning into bustling sidewalks and crowded storefronts. 

She always approached her surroundings with this quiet contemplation that Keigo found so remarkable. He was always content to let everything zoom on by, but not Fuyumi; she studied the antique bookshop on the corner with its old brick and oaken door and brass doorknob and smelled the flowers blooming in the flower boxes at the bakery next door. She paused to read the specials at the bubble tea shop, seeing if any of the new flavors piqued her interest, and stopped to watch a songbird peck at the roots of a tree on the fringe of the road. Every mundane thing captured her attention like it was new and meaningful; it was one of the many things that endeared Keigo to Fuyumi, perhaps one of the  _ most _ . She made him believe that this ugly world he was disillusioned to still had a spark of magic if he just went looking for it. 

Fuyumi sat up in her seat with an awed breath as he pulled into the parking lot of their destination. 

“Here?” she gasped excitedly, looking at him with bright eyes, and he nodded as he pulled into a V.I.P. parking spot. It was an upscale restaurant reserved for heroes and their guests only— it was expensive, ritzy, borderline pretentious, even, but the food was simply  _ undeniably  _ delicious. It was the unquestionable choice for Keigo to pop the question, though Fuyumi didn’t quite know that yet. 

“Keigo, are you sure?” she began to squirm as he unhooked his seatbelt and popped open the car door. “This place is so expensive…” Living on a teacher’s budget always made Fuyumi sensitive to money matters, although Keigo was a top-rated pro hero and thus  _ loaded.  _

“I spare no expense in pleasing you, my love, you know this!” he chirped delightedly, kissing her hand before getting out so he could walk around and open her car door. When she frowned uncertainly up at him from her seat, he smiled sweetly and crouched eye-level with her. “Really, this is well within my means, and more than that, no less than what you deserve.” Fuyumi blushed darkly at that, then unbuckled her seatbelt and shyly offered him her hand. He helped her step down onto the sidewalk, gave her a moment to smooth the creases in her dress, and then escorted her to the front of the restaurant. 

“Wow,” she breathed as they walked into the lobby through a set of marbled glass doors. It was a round room painted a deep wine red, with mahogany end tables displaying Tiffany lamps that filled the place with soft yellow light. A crystal chandelier glimmered above their heads, and the light refracted off the gems to dance over famous artworks hanging in gold frames on the ceiling. Fuyumi’s shiny heels clicked across the waxed tile as he guided her to the oak podium, where a tuxedoed host waited to take their names. “This is the  _ lobby _ ?” she whispered to Keigo in awe, making a low chuckle rumble in his throat. 

“Gaudy, isn’t it?” he joked under his breath before speaking loudly to the host. “Two for Hawks, please.” 

“Of course, sir. Follow me,” the employee nodded graciously and turned to lead them into the restaurant proper. Fuyumi looked up at Keigo with doe-eyes. 

“Did you make us a reservation?” 

“Honey, I’m the number-two hero. I don’t  _ need  _ a reservation,” he replied cockily and strutted after the host with Fuyumi in tow. He preened as eyes turned upon them— specifically the lady in red hanging off his arm— and puffed out his chest with pride. Keigo cared less of the notoriety he attracted as a top-listed hero and far more about showing off his absolutely stunning date. Fuyumi did not share his sentiment; she snuggled into his side with a fierce blush, holding her clutch close to her body. 

“Keigo, they’re staring…” 

“Of course they’re going to stare, love. You look absolutely ravishing,” he praised while sneaking an arm around her waist. He hugged her close and planted a kiss to the top of her head, all while his golden eyes swept around the room with a possessive glint. The men staring at his beautiful escort hurriedly busied themselves back to their meals, several of them earning reproachful glares from their own dates. Keigo certainly didn’t mind showing Fuyumi off, but he took care to make sure everyone knew just who she belonged to if some daring soul sought to make fantasy a reality. 

The host sat them at a streetside table where a big window showed a gorgeous view of the mulberry bushes growing alongside the building, as well as the street beyond. The low-beams of passing cars washed their bodies with a soft white glow as they seated themselves opposite each other at the cloth-draped table. The waiter fetched them some champagne, house salad, and buttered rolls to enjoy while they perused the menu. Keigo opted for a sirloin steak, while Fuyumi (after much assurance that price was  _ not  _ an issue) decided on a lobster and shrimp fettuccine alfredo. As the waiter took their menus and their orders to the kitchen, Fuyumi leaned back in her chair, swirling the champagne gently in its glass as her curious eyes studied the swing band playing in the corner. 

“I could never have dreamed of visiting a place like this before I met you,” she hummed thoughtfully. Keigo looked at her with raised eyebrows and some bits of lettuce hanging out of his mouth. She laughed airily and leaned forward to dab at the corner of his mouth, where a bit of Caesar dressing had made a home. “I mean, look at this place… Far more than a humble teacher like me deserves.” 

Keigo sucked the lettuce through his teeth and crunched on it, frowning. 

“I hate it when you say things like that.” He really did. He knew that it was partly from the neglect she suffered as a child; she was nothing special, and she’d always regarded herself as such. How could she not, when she had superstar siblings who were the ill-fated apples of Endeavor’s eye? All the psychology in the world didn’t make it true, though. “You deserve this. You deserve all this and more.” 

“Keigo, I was just—” she started, a bit unnerved by the grave tone his voice had taken on. 

Keigo had planned to wait until the end of the meal to pull his stunt, but something about this moment demanded urgency. Fuyumi gaped with a wide-open mouth as he pushed out of his seat and fished the ring box out of his coat pocket. “Keigo. Keigo, what are you— what is that—- Keigo,  _ Keigo _ , don’t tell me you’re—!” she sputtered, face reddening and tears springing to his eyes as Keigo nonchalantly sank to one knee with his wings flared out behind him. 

“Fuyumi Todoroki,” he said solemnly. Fuyumi responded with a high-pitched wheeze, covering her mouth with her hand as tears leaked out of her eyes. “I’ve never met a woman more deserving of the  _ whole world. _ You’re the kindest, most compassionate, most dedicated, most selfless—” he sucked in a breath before he could go on. Fuyumi made a low moan of appreciation as she tried to rapidly blink the water out of her overflowing eyes. Keigo’s face softened, and he shuffled a little bit toward her, holding the ring box higher. By this point, the other restaurant-goers had caught on to the situation and were ogling shamelessly. 

“I could write a book about every good thing you are,” he summarized with a small chuckle, “and it  _ still  _ wouldn’t express how wonderful you are in my eyes. Fuyumi, because of you, I look at the world a whole different way. You reminded me that there’s love and good things out there and give me the strength to get up every day and do what I do. You give me a reason to take flight even in the roughest winds. I want to protect this world not only because you’re in it but because you  _ love  _ it. All the simple things that we take for granted, you cherish and appreciate with all you are. 

Fuyumi, that kind of soul can’t be matched. So you do deserve this. You  _ deserve  _ nice dinners, and fancy dresses, and bouquets of roses, and love letters. You  _ deserve  _ those little drawings your students make that you can barely cram on your fridge anymore, and those praising e-mails after parent-teacher conferences, and those apples the kids leave on your desk every morning, and the pay raises. You  _ deserve  _ all the love this world has to offer for the love you’ve given it. Fuyumi, I may be but a small part of that world, but I swear I will love you with every fiber of my being, every day for the rest of our lives.” 

Keigo popped the ring box open to reveal a stunning gold ring inlaid with a large ruby and surrounded by small white diamonds. 

“Fuyumi, will you marry me?” 

Though she’d tried to stop, Fuyumi had only cried progressively harder throughout Keigo’s speech. She was full-on sobbing now, face buried into her hands. As she mumbled something unintelligible, Keigo shifted uncomfortably and flapped his wings a little. 

“Uh… Fuyumi, honey… I can’t understand what you’re saying…” he muttered awkwardly. 

Fuyumi sucked in a deep breath, then slowly, shakily released it. She peeled her hands away from her face to reveal ruddy cheeks, red and puffy eyes, and mascara tracks streaming down her cheeks. Her watery eyes bored into Keigo’s as she uttered a simple word. 

“Yes.” 

The restaurant erupted into claps and cheers. Beaming stupidly, Keigo stumbled to his feet; Fuyumi did too, accidentally slipping out of one of her heels. She flopped against Keigo’s chest, and he hurriedly caught her by the waist. She giggled excitedly as he slipped the ring onto her left hand, then brought it to his mouth to kiss along her knuckles. 

“I love you so, so, so much,” she sniffed as she leaned up, nuzzling the tip of her nose with his. “I can’t believe this. This is—” 

“Don’t say it,” he warned. Fuyumi smiled knowingly before threading her fingers through his golden locks. 

“No,” she whispered. “I was going to say that this is all I’ve ever wanted. I deserve to be this happy, don’t I?” 

“Yes, love,” he said and pressed his forehead to hers. “Yes, you do.” 

As Keigo leaned in to softly kiss her, eyes closing and hands exploring the curves he’d long since committed to memory, he reminded himself that he deserved to be this happy, too. There really  _ was  _ so much good and love in the world, and everybody deserved just a little piece of it— Fuyumi had taught him that. 


	53. Making Up For Lost Time

Category: Action, Drama, Romantic Fluff

Characters: Momo Yaoyorozu, Yosetsu Awase

_ Hey, everyone! I’m super pleased to present the piece I did for the BNHA Big Bang! Please check out my partner rachiebird’s art on Tumblr or Twitter; they worked really hard to bring this story to life. And enjoy!  _

Momo’s steps were quick and light as she walked as fast as she could down the hallway. The south wall was lined floor-to-ceiling with windows, giving a picturesque view of the bustling city streets weaving through the skyline of towering skyscrapers. Normally, Momo would stop to admire the matchbox-sized cars trundling through traffic lights and the ant-like people shuffling down the sidewalks, but now was not the time for idling. Momo had been summoned to the agency’s owner, and she had an inkling of what it was about. 

_ I’m going to get my first solo assignment!  _

Though she couldn’t stop to admire the view, Momo did allow herself to pause and do a little happy dance. It had been six months since her graduation from U.A. She had been toiling night and day to impress her superiors, running herself ragged filing paperwork, patrolling the city, and corralling small-time crooks. She had been hoping that her boss had taken notice of her efforts, and this summons surely indicated they had paid off. Momo was practically vibrating with excitement when she reached the ornate mahogany door at the end of the hall. 

She sucked in a breath, steeled her nerves, and then knocked loudly. 

“It’s Creati!” 

“Come in,” came the poised reply. Momo entered and bowed respectfully before looking to her employer, Uwabami. The model-slash-superhero offered her a lucrative position pending her graduation, and though Momo had her reservations, she had taken it due to the comfort of knowing the beautiful hero already. She had been relieved to discover that though Uwabami prioritized model work, she still provided ample opportunity for her up-and-coming sidekicks to involve themselves in hero work. 

The blonde-haired woman smiled pleasantly as Momo approached the desk. “Creati, I believe you are familiar with the Chief of Police,” she said with a wave to the uniformed gentleman sitting in the plush chair across the desk. 

“Yes, of course. Lovely to see you again,” Momo acknowledged courteously. The man only nodded silently. Momo could see the worry lines creasing his brow and the nervous sweat dampening his face. Clearly, whatever this meeting concerned was not just the run-of-the-mill mission. Momo found herself straightening up, trying to seem dignified and worthy of the honor she was to be bestowed. 

“The Chief of Police has visited multiple agencies looking for sidekicks who are willing to participate in a very important operation. When he enlightened me to the details of the job, you were the obvious choice,” Uwabami revealed with a proud smile. Momo couldn’t help the giddy grin that bloomed on her face. 

“Thank you! I won’t disappoint!” she ensured radiantly, bowing once more. As Uwabami gestured, Momo hastily took a seat and turned slightly to listen to the police chief. He stroked his stubble with a long sigh, sounding just as wearied as he looked. 

“The police force has been investigating a drug-smuggling ring for nearly a year now. They are responsible for eighty percent of the contraband traffic past our borders. We’ve invested many lives and resources into investigating and apprehending this organization, and we have finally prepared a sting operation to capture many high-level officials within their ranks,” he explained. Momo listened with furrowed eyebrows, amazed that she was being involved in such an important matter. 

“The sting operation is to take place at a bar that is notoriously a villain gathering place,” Uwabami continued stoically. “The police force has requested our aid in staking out the bar and providing backup should their operation go south. You have developed a knack for performing under pressure and devising quick plans when things turn ugly, Creati, so I recommended you as our contribution.” 

“I’m honored, Uwabami. I won’t let you down!” Momo vowed solemnly. She began to bristle with excitement. Surely, other young heroes would be invited to participate; she wondered if she would encounter any of her old classmates and they could fight side-by-side again, just like old times. Just as she was wondering, the police chief piped up that she would be acting with a partner. 

“As a matter of fact, he arrived several minutes ago and should be joining us shortly.” 

Just then, a knock resounded in the room. Momo whirled around to peer over the back of the leather chair, watching with wide eyes as the doorknob jiggled and the door swung open. Her eyes widened as a tall, dark-haired young man with his forehead covered in a diamond-patterned bandana strolled in. 

“ _ Welder _ ?!” she exclaimed at the same instant he froze and gasped, “ _ Creati _ ?!” 

“Perfect! You two are acquainted. That will make things much easier!” Uwabami hummed in delight. Momo sunk down in the chair to hide the rosy blush coloring her cheeks. “Easier” sure was a way to put it, but not a word  _ she  _ would use. Sure, they went to high school together, but there was a matter of… unresolved feelings harbored between them that could complicate matters. 

She’d known that Yosetsu had developed a crush on her early on in their first year. She’d never really been able to decide whether or not she’d wanted to reciprocate, considering the harrowing ordeals they constantly underwent throughout high school. So they’d persisted in this unspoken stalemate, stewing on fledgeling affections that never got the chance to take flight. 

Life sure had a funny way of dredging up the past. 

Yosetsu eyed her uncertainly as he approached the desk, easing down into the chair on the other side of the police chief. Momo had busied herself looking at Uwabami, but she could feel Yosetsu’s gaze prickling her nerves. It felt like he was studying every aspect of her, drinking in the way that she’d matured in the short time they hadn’t seen one another— and honestly, it made her heart race in all the right ways. 

She squirmed in the chair as the police chief continued to explain their duties. 

“It would be suspicious if we infiltrated the bar with too many sidekicks, so you two have been chosen to perform this aspect of the sting. You will pose as villains and enter the bar to gather intel on an important drug transaction that one of our informants revealed to us.” 

Both Momo and Yosetsu sucked in a small breath. No doubt it was a high honor to be given such a vital role, but posing as villains in a hub of criminal activity could have deadly consequences if they weren’t up to snuff. Momo felt a bead of sweat roll down her face, which she discreetly wiped away while tucking a swathe of her hair behind her ear. She could do this!

“Based on the information you gather, the police, pro heroes, and other sidekicks will move in to apprehend the criminals. This will be a very dangerous mission; it is rumored that the head of the gang is making an alliance with a Colombian drug lord who has traveled here specifically for this deal,” the officer warned. “Although it will be unfortunate if they cannot be captured, it is a possibility, since there will be a high level of security and plainclothes gang members in the bar. Your safety is of the utmost importance. If you feel your lives are in danger, pull out.” 

The idea of accepting defeat left a sour taste in Momo’s mouth, but given the gravity of the operation, she swallowed the bitter seeds of protest rising in her stomach. She could see Yosetsu clench his jaw out of the corners of her eyes; he had always been a brash one, so being told that it was very likely they would have to retreat probably didn’t sit well with him, either. Still, they respectfully held their tongues, something that made Uwabami smirk confidently. 

“These are sophisticated young heroes. I am sure they will perform admirably and make educated choices,” the woman assured the officer. The man whistled through his teeth as he ran his hand through his sweat-damped hair. 

“Of course. They both came highly recommended, as did the other sidekicks involved. However, as police we must always prepare for the worst-case scenario. We don’t want young talent sacrificing themselves needlessly.” 

After a moment of silence, the man slapped his knees and stood. “Very well, then. I have discussed the major details with Uwabami, so she will brief you on the timeline and all the other necessities. On behalf of the police force and the citizens of Japan, I thank you for accepting this task.” 

Both Momo and Yosetsu jumped to bow as the man took his leave. They took their seats again as Uwabami leaned over her desk with clasped hands, eyes glittering and a terse smirk on her lipsticked mouth. 

“Now, listen carefully, you two…” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Momo smoothed the ruby red party dress down the length of her curves as she turned this way and that in the mirror. The police force had provided her with a suitable disguise that still allowed use of her Quirk— a sleeveless one-and-a-half-skirt dress with a plunging back, with ruffled fabric that swished around her thighs as she walked. Though she was quite used to showing skin due to the necessities of her powers, for the first time she found herself nervous to bare so much to the world. 

Well, not really to the world, but to one individual in particular. 

“You look nice.” 

Momo jumped and whipped around, hand slapping over her heart as she gasped. Yosetsu smiled apologetically, fiddling with the watch around his wrist. 

“Sorry. I suppose I should have knocked, but I’d figured you had finished changing.” 

The agency had rented them adjoining hotel rooms across the bar to prepare for their operation. The police force and other heroes were also holed up in the building, setting up a command center. She could hear them through the thin walls of the hotel room, barking orders as they prepared for a crucial night. It made her nervous, so she tried to fixate on something else— inadvertently studying the way Yosetsu’s suit flattered him almost mouthwateringly well. 

The black fabric cut his figure sharply, and his coat hung unbuttoned, revealing a rumpled dress shirt. His hair was tousled with gel with his bangs falling over his signature headband, and his dress shoes gleamed in the lowlight of the room. It was the perfect balance of lazy and sexy, the perfect look for a faux villain— and complemented Yosetsu’s personality so well. 

As Momo felt her face heating up, she returned her gaze to the mirror to fumble with a necklace. She cursed internally as her shaking fingers struggled to clasp the gold chain. She froze when she felt the pads of rough, calloused fingers brush over the nape of her neck. 

“Allow me,” Yosetsu’s breath puffed against her styled hair. Her arms dropped of her own accord, allowing him to secure the chain. Her heart hammered in her throat as his fingers lingered for a second, skimming down the valley between her exposed shoulder blades. 

Then he was gone, shoes clunking as he walked towards the door. 

“It’s almost time. We should head to the bar.” Was it her imagination, or did she detect bitterness in his tone? Frowning, she skated her fingertips over the back of her neck, where his touch had been only a few short seconds ago. Confused and conflicted, she followed after him, the click of her heels heralding the start of a trial neither of them knew they were in for. 

They could hear the music pumping out of the bar as soon as they stepped out of the hotel. The bass boomed through the night air, mixing with the rumbling of the car engines speeding by and the hum of drunken conversation of the patrons loitering outside the bar. Yosetsu protectively looped their arms as they strode across the crosswalk, and tightened his grip as Momo’s sultry figure earned a few whoops and whistles from the staggering drunks. Momo tried to seem unbothered as he escorted her, but her nerves tingled under her skin. She wasn’t sure if it was the unwanted attention, or the  _ wanted  _ attention. 

The bouncer looked them up and down before wordlessly stepping aside, swinging the door open for them. A sea of bodies writhed beyond, reeking of alcohol and sweat as the neon lights flashed overhead to dye them green, yellow, blue, pink, and white in rapid succession. She gripped tightly on Yosetsu’s bicep as they ventured inside, and she felt the muscle tense under her manicured nails— but he said nothing, only kept pressing forward. No one gave them a second glance as they skirted the outside of the dance floor, heading for a nondescript metal door nestled near the bathrooms. 

Yosetsu knocked once on the door. It jumped open, halted by a swinging chain, and a bloodshot eye peered through the crack. 

“Password,” the doorkeeper grunted. 

“ _ Caipiroska _ ,” Yosetsu responded smoothly. The doorkeeper squinted at them, and for a moment, Momo frantically wondered if the police chief had been given the wrong password by their informant. In the next instant, however, the door slammed shut and they heard the jangling of the lock chain. The door swung open again to reveal a hulking, muscle-bound guard looming so tall that his close-cropped hair brushed against the upper frame. He nodded curtly at them before allowing them to pass. 

The secret lounge was far quieter than the outside bar, but no less seedy. A sapphire blue light bathed the room, washing over leather couches circling round tables laden with cocktails of all sorts and colors. Men in suits and ladies in dresses sprawled over the furniture, giggling and flirting and kissing passionately. Every few minutes, a couple would get up to disappear behind white velvet curtains, no doubt to continue their lustful pursuits in more private settings. Women in stiletto heels and maids dresses roamed the tables, delivering more alcohol. In the center was a white tile dance floor, where a small crowd of patrons were dancing provocatively under the swinging white lights. 

This is where Yosetsu led her, swinging her around to face him and settling his hands on her hips. She sucked in a breath and looked at him in shock, prompting him to whisper in her ear with a smirk, “We can see everything from here. Keep an eye out for our mark.” 

Momo’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. How could she be so foolish? Of course that was his plan. It had nothing to do with wanting to dance with her. 

She continued to convince herself of that as she peeked out of her lashes and started copying the movements of the other girls, swinging her hips to the bumping, bass-boosted music. Yosetsu used his grip to slowly wind her in a circle, and she peered beyond his sturdy frame at the tables, studying each and every person she could see. After several minutes, she spied a foreign-looking man smoking a fat cigar sitting with several well-dressed Japanese men. He seemed to be using an interpreter, whispering lowly in his ear before the translator spoke to the men in accented Japanese. 

Momo tapped Yosetsu on the shoulder and discreetly gestured with her chin. Instead of looking, he continued moving her in a slow circle until he was in a position to get a good glance at them. 

“That’s our man,” he hummed lowly in her ear, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise despite her attempts to remain professional. “Let’s keep an eye on them.” 

Gracefully, he guided Momo such that her back was now against his chest. Following his lead, she slowly snaked her arm up to loop around his neck, hands teasing at the hairs peeking out from underneath the back of his headband. Her hips slowly swung from side-to-side as he held them, and his head was tucked against her shoulder as she leaned her head back, his breath puffing against her exposed neck. They watched the group through fleeting glances, waiting for them to move their conversation where prying eyes couldn’t see. 

To anyone else, they seemed to be just a couple enjoying a steamy dance, not two heroes spying on a group of drug lords brokering a trade deal. Momo was grateful for the pounding music, because her heart was liable to beat out of her chest. Every glide of Yosetsu’s hands over her waist and hips sent a fire through her nerves, and every ghost of his breath over her skin a shiver up her spine. Her head began to swim with the overwhelming sensations, clouding the importance of her mission in a dizzying fog. All she could think about now was him, so close to her, and how she wanted him to touch her more, more,  _ more _ … 

She squeaked when he abruptly grabbed her by the chin to smother her mouth in a searing kiss. Her eyes shot open and she froze, but Yosetsu was not looking at her— his gaze was fixed upon the table of smugglers. After what seemed like forever, he broke the kiss, and she looked in shock at the table to catch the Colombian man snorting and turning his head. 

“He was staring at us,” Yosetsu explained quietly. Momo wasn’t sure if it was a way to keep their cover, or a show of possessiveness— and she wasn’t sure which explanation made her heart stutter more. 

Before the pair of young heroes could resume their dancing act, the group of drug dealers rose. They sauntered across the lounge to a small hallway, which most likely led to a back alley. Momo and Yosetsu held their positions for a few minutes before following; Yosetsu led a giggling Momo by the hand, grinning like he was leading her away for a secret rendezvous. As soon as they were veiled by the darkness of the hall, he ceased the act, putting on a serious face. He shrugged out of his coat to reveal several metal rods strapped to his sides, and rolled his sleeves up so he could have proper use of his hands for his welding Quirk. 

His eyes were narrowed as he edged to the slightly ajar back door, which was spilling cool night air into the hall. Momo tried to focus on the task at hand, and not the way the moonlight cut across his jaw in such an attractive way. They could hear snippets of conversation floating in, and it wasn’t your ordinary bartalk. It slowly faded into nothing, and Yosetsu risked a peek out of the door. 

“They’re heading to a warehouse down the street. Come on.” 

They crept out into the night, crouched low and eyes peeled. The group of men were striding confidently down the cobblestone alley, which was flanked by two armed guards sweeping the area with piercing gazes. Momo and Yosetsu huddled down behind a dumpster, watching the men disappear into the warehouse through a side door. A large, black, unmarked van was parked a few feet away— likely to transport the drug dealers’ haul. 

Momo pressed down on the jewel on her necklace, which contained a small walkie-talkie. 

“The suspects have entered a warehouse down the street from the bar. There are two guards visible, but likely to be more in the adjacent buildings. There is one black van parked near the side door,” she reported. The microphone buzzed a second later with the investigator’s affirmative and order to stay put while they moved into position for the raid. Momo and Yosetsu watched as a disguised police cruiser slowly rolled up to the end of the alleyway, and snipers crawled to the edges of the neighboring rooftops. 

Just as the sirens blared in the quietude, all hell broke loose. 

Momo and Yosetsu whipped around as the back door of the club burst open, and a small squadron of suit-clad men wearing sunglasses stormed into the alleyway. One of them immediately morphed into a large, warthog-like creature and charged the dumpster. Momo and Yosetsu sprang away in opposite directions; the villain’s sharp tusks slammed into the metal, punching through it like it was no more than paper. Momo rolled out into the alley, producing a sword and a shield and bracing herself for battle. 

She never had a chance to use them. 

“ _ Creati! Look out! _ ” 

Yosetsu’s shout was drowned out by the crack of a gunshot. Blood exploded from Momo’s left shoulder, and she screamed as fiery pain rocketed down her arm and bloomed across her upper trunk. It felt like liquid lava flooded her veins, melting all the starch in her knees. She crumpled to the ground with an agonized groan, her sword and shield clattering down beside her. She could see out of her blurry, tear-filled vision that the warthog man was preparing to charge once more, and tried to use her Quirk to produce a flash bomb to buy them time. 

Except, nothing happened. 

As the panic showed clear on her face, one of the crooks cackled. 

“What’s the matter, dollface?” he jeered. Momo’s breath began to hitch as she realized that she’d been struck with a Quirk-negating bullet.  _ Is this it?! Am I going to lose my Quirk forever?  _

“Ah, don’t fret, pretty thing,” he chuckled as he approached, grabbing her by the face and squeezing her cheeks. “It’s not one of those permanent models, I’m afraid. But you’ll still be helpless for quite a bit.” Momo shuddered at the sinister tone dripping from his voice. “Both of ya.” 

He forced her head to turn so she could see Yosetsu. He had been struck in the abdomen, and was lying in a puddle of his own blood, trying to staunch the wound. The tears rolled down her cheeks as the villain jerked her head back to face him. “Aw, he don’t look so good, does he? I hope he lasts the night. We got some work to do. Until then, pet, take a nap.” 

Her world swirled as he pistol-whipped her across the head. Stars sparked in her eyes as she flopped limply to the ground, darkness rapidly encroaching on the edges of her vision. The last thing she saw before the curtain of black fell was Yosetsu reaching for her and gasping for breath as blood dripped from his lips. Amongst the gunfire and sirens and shouts, she heard his pained whisper. 

“No… Not yet… I haven’t told her…” 

~~~~~~~~~~

A dull ache pounded in the side of Momo’s head as she slowly drifted into consciousness. Despite her first instinct to dissolve into a frightened tither, she forced herself to remain calm in the haze. She kept her breathing deep and steady, her eyes closed, and her body relaxed. As she rose into lucidity, she fought past the pain to focus on the voices bouncing around her. She recognized the man that had struck her among them. 

“Sleeping beauty better wake up soon. That bullet wears off in one minute,” he growled, “and we need her to play perfect little hostage for those damn cops.” 

Momo began counting down in her head.  _ Sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven.  _ She could recognize now that she was tied to a chair. Her bullet wound ached beneath its blood-soaked dressings, and she could feel the dried substance sticking to her skin. 

“You would think two young sidekicks would be more valuable to ransom,” another chortled, “but they’ve just been feeding us bullshit. Maybe we should kill one of them and show them we’re serious.” 

“I’m surprised that the other one is still kicking anyway,” laughed yet another, a deep-voiced man who carried the authority of a boss. “We were quite generous to bandage his wound, but I still expected him to bleed out. He’s a spirited one, too. Took a chunk outta Raiken’s arm!” he guffawed. Momo heard a low snarl, probably Raiken nursing the bite wound he’d earned from her colleague. It was a great relief to learn that Yosetsu was still alive, but that was only one hurdle surmounted. 

_ Forty-three. Forty-two. Forty-one.  _

“I can’t believe they fell for our little ruse,” hummed Momo’s attacker. Her heart jumped against her sternum in fright; it had all been a setup?! “This’ll teach them to snoop where they ain’t wanted. Surely the lives of two hero hopefuls is a good enough trade for us to fly the coop to South America, eh?” 

So, they were trying to barter their freedom for their lives. A clever plan, but dangerous for the two sidekicks if the powers that be refused to comply. Most likely, they were scouring the surrounding area for the two of them, hoping to still bring the gang of drug smugglers to justice. 

_ Twenty-five. Twenty-four. Twenty-three.  _

Momo heard the twang of a fingernail against glass, and one of the crooks mumbling about preparing a syringe of the Quirk-incapacitating solution. She heard chairs scraping and a metal door banging open as the gang of villains left, mentioning something about checking on Momo’s partner. She kept her head hanging low, relying on the timbre of the approaching footsteps to plan her counterattack. The blood rushed in her ears as her anxiety mounted. If she got the timing just slightly off, the remaining villain would raise the alarm, and she and Yosetsu would have no hope of escaping. 

The footsteps stopped in front of her. 

_ Three! Two!  _ **_One_ ** _! _

Just as the villain prepared to plunge the needle into the meat of her arm, Momo produced a large metal rod from her thigh. It shot straight up to knock into the man’s wrist, sending it flying up and the solution squirting out of the syringe. Knives sprouted from Momo’s wrists and ankles, slicing through the ropes binding her arms and legs to the creaky plastic chair. Before the man could recover, she surged forward to clap her hand over his mouth, and produced a length of rope from her person. She trussed him up and duct-taped his mouth, leaving him wriggling and squeaking muffled curses on the floor. For good measure, she struck him over the head with the metal rod, knocking him out. 

As she rose, something flopped against her neck. Her hand flew to catch what it was, and she gasped in delight— the fools had neglected to take her necklace! She pressed down on the jewel, praying that it was within reach of the receiver. 

“Hello? This is Creati! Can anyone read me? Hello?” 

“Creati?” buzzed Uwabami’s voice from the other end, and Momo nearly sank to the ground in relief. “Where are you?” 

“I’m not sure. Welder and I have been taken hostage in an unknown facility,” she responded, creeping to the door and peering out. The hallway was nondescript, lined with doors. “I overhead the villains talking about ransom demands.”

“They’ve asked for ten million yen and transport to Colombia for your lives. We’ve been stringing them along, but their patience is wearing thin,” Uwabami said stiffly. “It’s been eight hours since you were abducted from behind the bar. We lost the van in the chase, and wherever you are is disrupting the transport signal from your necklace.” 

“Underground?!” Momo realized with a gasp. It would explain the complete stone interior and the lack of windows. The only light came from flickering fluorescent lights. “I understand, Uwabami. I’ve managed to incapacitate one of the gang members and free myself, but I have no idea where Welder is, nor an exit.” 

“I would tell you to stay put, but we’ve had little luck locating you,” Uwabami sighed. The frustration and stress was clear in her voice. Momo smiled, touched that her mentor was so concerned for her well-being. 

“Tell the police force to take to the air. I’m going to attempt an escape, and when I get outside, I’ll fire flares. They should be able to find us then!” 

“Be careful, Creati. These men are very dangerous. Don’t do anything rash.” 

Momo grimaced at the unspoken order for her not to look for Welder, but focus on finding a way out. As she ended the conversation, she hovered in the doorway, debating what to do. It would be the practical choice to look for an exit and alert the police and heroes to their location. However, once she fired the flare, the gang would be alarmed. They would try to cut their losses and flee; they could leave Yosetsu as is, but they could also kill him on the spot or attempt to flee with him to continue to use him as a hostage. 

Finding a way out was the obvious choice, but Momo just couldn’t bring herself to abandon Yosetsu. He’d risked his life to save her from the Nomu once, when leaving her behind would have been the logical choice. She’d always hoped to repay him— and now she had her chance. 

Besides, he’d said he’d wanted to tell her something. For better or worse, she wanted to hear it, even if she already knew what it was. Once and for all, they could end this unspoken tension between them that had been brewing for three years. 

Somehow, that was the most important thing. 

Momo slunk out into the hall, crouched low and eyes peeled. As she passed each door, she pressed her ear against it, straining to hear anything that could lead her to Yosetsu or the way out. The blank halls and windowless doors blended together in a labyrinth-like haze shrouded in silence and the dull fluorescents. Momo crept through them like a mouse slinking into the lions’ den, desperate for crumbs of information. Just one could mean the difference between life and death. 

She arrived finally at the end of the hall, marked by a stairwell. The door creaked as she opened it; darkness clouded the landings, veiling the areas above and below. Momo stared up the stairs, knowing that she should proceed upward since she thought she was underground. However, her instincts told her that Yosetsu was somewhere down below. Swallowing, she stole down the steps, further into the gangs’ hideout. 

Once more, she was met with a hall lined with doors. Except this time, one of them was open, spilling light and sound into the passage. Momo crept as close as she dared, and cringed when she heard the unmistakable sound of fist striking flesh. 

“I bet your pretty girlfriend won’t think you’re hot shit anymore, huh?” came a sadistic cackle. Another smack echoed through the gloom, followed by an agonized groan and the splash of blood against the ground. Momo slowly tip-toed to the cracked door, peering ever-so-slightly through the gap. She managed to hold in her strangled gasp when she spied Yosetsu, tied to a chair and surrounded by the four men from the alleyway and the apparent leader of the gang. 

Yosetsu’s face was a mosaic of black-and-blue bruises. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned to reveal soiled bandages, dyed red where the bullet had punched through his abdomen. His headband hung around his neck, causing his sweat-soaked hair to hang onto his swollen face. Yet she could see his muscles straining against his bonds and the fresh blood seeping through the bandages with every jerk he made to wrestle free. 

“Look at ‘im! What a tough lad, eh? Eager to get off and rescue your princess, little hero?” The villain grabbed Yosetsu by the chin to force him to look up. Even through the swollen flesh around his eyes, Momo could see the seething hatred burning in his dark irises. “She’s such a pretty little thing. Ever since I saw her walk in that bar on your arm I wanted a taste. Maybe I should, eh? Leave you here to bleed while I go have a bit of  _ fun _ .”

“You motherfucker! Just fuckin’  _ wait  _ until I get outta these, I’m gonna fuckin’—  _ gaaaaaaah _ !” Yosetsu’s obscene curses were cut short as the man sucker-punched him in the gut, right over his wound. Blood spurted through the bandages, puddling on his already stained slacks. Yosetsu wheezed and moaned as he doubled over as far as his bindings would allow, while the crooks cruelly laughed at his misery. 

“All right. That’s enough fucking around,” the boss grumped. “I’m tired of waiting on these assholes. I think it’s time to show them we’re serious. Let’s go get the girl.” 

Yosetsu’s head snapped up, showing an expression of horror. 

“What—? No!  _ No _ ! You can’t! I won’t let you!” he shouted as he desperately scooted after them, clenching his teeth. Frustrated tears sprung to the corners of his eyes as the men ignored him, heading for the door. Her heart broke as he began screaming, begging for them to take him instead, and writhed so violently in the chair that he fell flat on his face. He continued to brokenly plead to the men’s retreating backs, voice cracking with desperation. 

Momo scurried away in a panic, looking around at the array of doors. She needed to hide, but there was no guarantee that any of them were unlocked or unoccupied. However, she only had seconds to make a decision. She dove over to one and twisted the knob, momentarily grateful that it was unlocked. She slipped inside and closed the door just as the men entered the hall. She held her breath and listened to them pass, not daring to breathe until their footsteps had long since faded. 

The only sound now was Yosetsu’s continued wailing. Momo chanced a look over her shoulder, mindlessly inspecting the room, and froze. 

Facing her, a man was sleeping on a bunk bed in the corner. His side rose and fell with deep snores, and his mouth hung open to pool drool over his pillow. One of his hands hung off the bed clutching a beer bottle. He was on the top bunk, and if it slipped from his grasp, it would plummet to the ground and shatter— surely awakening him. 

Panic began to rise once more as she saw the bottle began to slip through his fingers. She kicked off her heels and sprinted across the room, frayed carpet muffling her footfalls, and managed to catch the bottle just as it plunged from his grip. She stood still there for a second, listening to his unchanged breathing pattern. Then, she slowly set the beer bottle down on the unoccupied second bed. 

She backed carefully away from the bed, picked up her heels, and reached behind her to open the door. Still watching the sleeping man with wide eyes, she slipped back into the hall. His form slowly eclipsed as she closed the door again. She then finally allowed herself a deep sigh of relief, pressing her head against the door. 

Slowly, the blood rushing in her ears faded, replaced by Yosetsu’s pathetic grunts and groans. Adrenaline pulsed once more through her veins, reminding her of the task at hand. Heels clacking together in her hand, she hurried to the door, throwing it open with a cry of his name. 

Yosetsu immediately ceased his struggles. 

“Yaoyorozu?!” 

“It’s all right, Awase! I’m here!” she cried, rushing to his side. She produced a knife to slice through his bonds, tossing the ropes aside. He melted off the chair, groaning, and she dragged it away from him. He rolled onto his back, pressing his hand into his bleeding wound. His dark eyes fixed on her, flooded with relief. 

“Thank goodness… I thought… I thought they were…” he coughed weakly. She knelt beside him, hands fluttering over his body as she panicked with how to help him. He had already been gravely wounded by the gunshot, and repeated beatings hadn’t helped. She forced a smile, tucking her disarrayed hair behind her ear as she tried to seem less worried than she was. 

“Don’t worry. I’m going to get us out of here,” she assured him. He frowned. 

“No. You should leave me. It’s too dangerous, and I’m nothing but a liability like this—”

“ _ No _ !” she snapped, making his eyes widen a little. “No,” she repeated softly. “I can’t leave you behind. You and I are on this mission together, and we’re going to end it that way.” 

His breaths were labored as he stared up at her. Confliction was clear in his bruised, swollen face. 

“Yaoyorozu, I don’t know if I’m gonna—” 

“Don’t say that,” she scolded gently. She placed her hand on his cheek, and despite the pain, he leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering. “Don’t. I’m going to get you out of here, and then you can say what you wanted to tell me.” 

He looked up at her in shock, but she was already rising, hefting him up by his arm. Her shoulder burned in protest, but it was nothing compared to the agony Yosetsu was stricken with. He groaned and yelped as he struggled to his feet. When he righted himself, he immediately slumped against her, nearly disbalancing her with his weight. Yet she persevered, staggering with him out into the hallway. 

Time was of the essence. Soon, the crooks would discover her absence and scour the compound for her. She had to reach the exit, and fast. 

Just as they stumbled into the stairwell, alarms began to wail. A bright red light doused the staircase in its bright blinking glow, and angry curses and shouts bled through the walls. 

“Yaoyorozu, leave me—” Yosetsu began to insist again. She ignored him, dragging him as fast as she could up the steps. She abandoned her heels; they clunked down the steps, vanishing into the dark depths. Every strike of the hard enamel-like surface against the concrete sounded like a death knell heralding their inevitable demise. 

Despite the villains scurrying around searching for her, they made it to the top stair with no incident. She kicked the door open to be greeted with a rush of early dawn wind. The sunrise was peeking above the horizon, spilling golden light over a sooty, dirty warehouse district. They had not been underground after all; the building had been lined with metal to reflect potential airwaves, which had disrupted the tracking device in her necklace. They stood upon a flat roof, four stories up and helpless. 

Momo produced a flare gun from her leg and pointed it upwards. A bright red flare burst forth, rocketing into the fading night sky to glimmer with soft fire. Yosetsu pressed the jewel on her necklace for her, and it crackled with activity. 

“This is Creati! Do you copy? I have Welder with me! I’ve fired a flare; we’re in some sort of packaging or manufacturing district.” 

“Uwabami here! We’ve seen the flare and are also locked on to your location. Hang tight, you two! We’re on our way!” 

Though it was reassuring to know that aid was en route, Momo couldn’t breathe easy yet. They still had to survive until rescue came. She gently laid Yosetsu on the rooftop and hurried to the door, using her Quirk to make a large plank of wood. She jammed it under the doorknob; it wouldn’t hold for long, but it could buy them time, which they sorely needed. Angry shouts were rising up, floating up to mingle with the stars and stain them with wroth. 

The flare flickered down, disappearing behind an adjacent warehouse. 

Momo crawled on her hands and knees to Yosetsu. He lay on his back, holding his wound again. Blood seeped through his fingers, and his eyes were lidded as he stared glassily up at the sky. If it weren’t for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, she would fear he’d bled to death. 

“Awase,” she whispered as she shimmied up beside him, trying to stay low so no one would spy them from the ground. She knew he was in a bad way, as his only reply was a strangled breath. “Hold on, Awase. Help is coming. Hold on,” she pleaded softly as she helped apply pressure to his wound. He groaned in agony, head rolling and smearing sweat against the white concrete of the roof. 

“I’m so tired,” he slurred. His eyes were drooping, prompting Momo to slap him lightly on the cheek a few times. His lashes fluttered to look at her, eyes unfocused. 

“Stay awake, Awase!” she begged. Tears began to bead on her own lashes as the panic seeped into her bones. She pushed hard down on his abdomen, desperate to control his bleeding. He’d lost so much already, dripping the whole way up the stairwell. 

That fact settled into her frazzled brain, and she looked slowly to the door, barred only by the wood. 

The metal door heaved suddenly, making her jerk in shock. The wood quivered under its assault, but held firm, at least for now. Angry shouts and curses boomed beyond, but were soon drowned out by the rising whips of helicopter blades. She looked up to see red lights blinking amongst the fading stars, and the black bulk of the chopper rapidly approaching. 

“ _ Look _ . Look, Awase, it’s a helicopter! It’s a helicopter,” she laughed giddily and looked down. The chuckles died in her throat as she watched him struggling to stay conscious, gurgling as blood bubbled in the back of his throat. “Awase! Awase, stay with me!” she screamed. With a surge of strength, she sat him up against her, holding the back of his skull. His eyes rolled in the back of his head for a second before he blinked rapidly, gaze settling on her face. A dreamy smile spread over his busted lips. 

“You’re so fuckin’  _ beautiful _ .” 

“Awase! Don’t talk like that. We’re gonna make it through this, we’re gonna—” 

“ _ Please _ ,” he whispered hoarsely. Momo’s words faltered on her tongue. His hand rose to cup her cheek, fingers softly tracing the line of her jawbone as his eyes drank in every ounce of her being. 

“Ever since I first saw you, I’ve loved you, Yaoyorozu.” The tears rolled down her cheeks as she silently stared down at him, heart breaking as he strained to get out the words. “I know I’m not— I’m not worthy of someone like you, but I thought— I thought if I worked hard, maybe someday—  _ someday  _ I—” 

As he erupted into a fit of hacking coughs, Momo pressed her forehead to his. 

“Awase, Awase, listen to me. You’ve always been worth something to me. You’re my  _ hero _ , Awase,” she sniffled, her tears dripping down to travel through the blood spatters across his face. “I never forgot what you did for me. You  _ saved  _ me, even when you didn’t have to, and I lived every day to honor that life you gave me.” 

He groaned as she hugged him tight, burying her face into his neck and rocking back and forth. 

“Don’t go,” she whimpered. “Don’t go, don’t make me live like this. I want— I want to do it right. I want to make up for the time I’ve wasted. Awase,  _ please _ —!” 

She could hear the wood cracking under the assault on the door, just over the deafening helicopter blades. The wind buffeted them as the flying machine descended, ruffling Momo’s dress and sending her hair flapping around her face. She straightened up, the tears staining her cheeks, as Awase clung to life. Just as the wood buckled and the door crashed open, he used the last of his strength to reach up and weld his hand to the footrail of the helicopter and his other arm around Momo’s waist. 

“Go, go, go, go!” Uwabami roared over the wind. The helicopter’s engine whined as it surged away from the roof. The villains could only watch frustrated as the two heroes were borne away, and more helicopters and police cruisers surrounded their complex. Momo clung to Yosetsu as he dangled from the helicopter, watching the climax of their harrowing mission unfold on the retreating ground. As the rising sun finally peeked above the horizon, it was greeted with a flood of red and blue. 

With the coming of the dawn, and the end of their ordeal, Momo finally succumbed to the exhaustion. She drifted down into the darkness, the wind fading into serene, empty silence. She cast one more prayer into the abyss, a prayer that Yosetsu would still be there when she awakened. 

~~~~~~~~~~

When Momo opened her eyes, she was met with blinding white. Her eyes burned with the intensity of the pristine roof tiles and walls. She rolled her head with a groan; the pounding headache had returned with a vengeance. A soft pillow embraced her ailing cranium, providing some relief with its cloud-like plushness. Similarly, cool sheets were draped over her form, and fresh bandages wrapped around her wounded shoulder. She could tell that she was wearing a hospital gown, as the thin fabric rustled over her skin. 

Her heartbeat jumped on the monitor, alerting Uwabami to her restlessness. 

“Creati?” the woman gasped, jumping up from her chair to rush to her bedside. Momo smiled sleepily at her mentor, relieved to see a friendly face after so long surrounded by hostiles. 

“Uwabami…” 

“Relax, my dear. You’re safe,” she cooed and rested a soothing hand on Momo’s forehead. Her palm was refreshingly cool, causing Momo to melt into the mattress in relief. Fresh panic soon incited her nerves, however, as she remembered Yosetsu. 

“Welder! Where is he? Is he safe? Is he…?” She dare not finish the sentence. Her bottom lip wobbled at the possibility alone. Uwabami tutted soothingly, stroking her hair. 

“It’s all right. He was gravely wounded, but he pulled through surgery and is expected to make a full recovery.” 

For a second, she was stunned into silence. Then, one small, croaking hiccup bubbled out of her mouth. All her suppressed emotions came bursting forth, causing her to burst into wracking sobs. Uwabami continued to gently caress Momo’s hair as the girl wailed and cried and wept until her throat was sore and her eyes were out of tears. 

After thirty minutes of emotional duress, her wits returned to her. She steadied her breathing around occasional stuttering hiccups and sniffles, and Uwabami gazed adoringly at her. 

“I am so proud of you, Creati. You did so well. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal, but you never abandoned hope and you rescued your comrade. You are the  _ pride  _ of my agency.” 

Momo tried to bite back the fresh tears that threatened to spill again. 

“Thank you, Uwabami,” she choked out. She took a moment to compose herself once more before swallowed and looked hopefully at the older hero. “Can I… Can I see him?” 

Uwabami smiled knowingly.

“Of course you can, my dear.” 

A few minutes later, Momo was hesitating in front of the hospital room door. A placard read “Awase Yosetsu” in neat handwriting. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and chewed on her bottom lip. What should she say? Was there anything  _ to  _ say after an emotional confession as death knocked on your doorstep? Yosetsu had been so out of it that maybe he didn’t even remember it. What would she do then? 

She agonized over the uncertainties for several minutes. Eventually, she decided to just face whatever was to come and found herself rapping on the door before she could change her mind. 

“Come in,” came Yosetsu’s hoarse voice. She timidly opened the door, peering around its edge with owlish eyes. 

He was propped up in the hospital bed, his abdomen swathed in clean white bandages and his face an even uglier watercolor of yellow, purple, and black bruising. His eyes were bright under the swollen lids, however, and he smiled so broadly when Momo shyly stepped in that the split in his lip burst open and bled a little down his chin. 

“Hey,” she said meekly. 

“Hey,” he drawled. Damn it, how was it so possible for a man to sound so sexy while looking like he’d been a punching bag for a training boxer? She clasped her hands behind her back as she timidly approached the bedside. The sheets rustled as he eagerly sat further up in bed, that stupid grin never leaving his bleeding mouth. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Like dog shit, quite honestly, but I’ll live.” 

She giggled at his brutal honesty and uncouth vocabulary, mostly in relief at his high spirits. His gaze softened as she slowly sat down on the edge of his bed, her thigh bumping his. She sat there silently for a moment, absently tracing patterns in the cotton blanket covering his legs. 

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” she said finally, peeking through her lashes at him. His grin widened, impossible as it seemed, and his eyes glittered happily. His hand snuck out from beneath the blankets to grasp hers. A scraped thumb brushed over her skin, sending tingles up her arm. 

“S’only because of you,” he purred, bringing a heat to her cheeks. “Yaoyorozu—” 

“Momo,” she corrected. His eyebrows raised and she smiled sweetly. “Please, call me Momo.” 

“Okay…  _ Momo _ ,” he said slowly, like he was enjoying the way it rolled over his tongue. A goofy lilt came to his grin, and he said, “Can I kiss you, Momo?” 

A fierce fiery blush spread across her face, followed by a sheepish smile. Words failed her and so she nodded, scooting herself closer to the injured man. As before, Yosetsu cupped her face and brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathed in utter awe. “Way too beautiful for the likes o’ me.” 

“Stop talking and kiss me,” she demanded. He laughed at her braven confidence, but obeyed her without complaint. He leaned in to press his lips against hers in a sweet kiss, much at odds with their steamy lip-locking in the club. Yet to Momo it was so much more riveting, for she could feel the love bleeding through every roll of his lips against hers. His tongue timidly swept across her bottom lip, pleading for entry, and she granted it. No sooner did his tongue dive into tangle eagerly with hers, drawing a satisfied hum from the depths of her throat. 

Her hand traveled up the planes of his torso, feeling the scratchy surface of the bandages contouring chiseled abdominals, before resting at his sternum. She could feel his heartbeat thumping against her palm, a steady rhythm that synchronized with hers as their lips moved together in passionate tandem. His hand had slid up from her face to bury into her tousles of fluffy black hair, winding through the strands like he was committing their feel to memory. 

As much as she wanted to kiss him until the end of time, she had to breathe at some point. They broke apart, both flushed with breathlessness and smiling adoringly. He ran his hand through her hair once more, then cupped the back of her head gently. 

“Stay with me awhile?” he asked hopefully. 

“Of course.” 

He smiled broadly and scooted himself over in the bed so she could crawl up beside him. She tucked her body close to his side, and his arm wormed behind her head to cradle her against him. His fingers painted abstract patterns across her side, while she rested her hand over her chest again, enjoying the feeling of his heartbeat pulsing against her skin and the rise and fall of his breaths. It lulled her into a pleasant drowsiness, along with the body heat of the handsome man beside her. 

She smiled sleepily as she felt Yosetsu press a lingering kiss into the top of her head. She snuggled further into him, tucking her nose into the crook of his neck, and exhaled deeply. 

She allowed the darkness to take her again. After all, they had all the opportunity in the world now to make up for lost time. 


End file.
